


Kiss & Other Khanolly Ficlets

by MizJoely



Series: Khanolly [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek Into Darkness - Fandom, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Ficlets, NSFW, khanolly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 31,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Khan and Molly's teenaged daughter has a date, but Daddy objects. Parenty-fluff.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Kiss

Molly loved it when Khan kissed her; she’d loved the first one even though she’d told herself at the time that he was forcing it on her. However, she’d been lying to herself and there was no point in doing so any longer. She loved it when he kissed her, when he caressed her, when he pinned her to their bed and ravished her body with his own. She loved it when he allowed her to pretend to have the strength to do the same, when she held his wrists above his head and met his smouldering gaze with her own; those times, when he let her ride his magnificent body, she felt like the most powerful woman in the galaxy — and why shouldn’t she, when she’d been the one to at least partially tame the most untamable man she’d ever met?


	2. Icing

How Khan had discovered it was her birthday, Molly had no idea. She’d certainly never told him, and although the stolen dreadnaught’s database was pretty comprehensive, she was fairly certain her personal stats weren’t in it. 

Not that she was complaining; at the moment, in fact, she couldn’t think of a single thing to ever complain about again, as Khan painstakingly drizzled warm vanilla icing over her body, down her torso, even onto her already dripping sex. And when he followed the lines of icing with his mouth and tongue, she knew with a feeling of delirious joy that this was definitely the best birthday ever.


	3. Baby Talk

"Oh, Khan, isn’t she adorable?"

He beetled his brows and stared at Molly as she cooed over Joachim and Maria’s newborn daughter. At the moment his opinion of the infant was that she was red, wrinkled and entirely too noisy - she was still screaming her displeasure at being born, apparently - but as he watched Molly tenderly cleaning and weighing her, he felt his heart clench at the thought of how she would react to a child of her own.

No, not a child of HER own, a child he’d created WITH her. Molly would bear the pains of childbirth as magnicifently as Maria had, even if she only had a tenth of their augmented genes.   
Oh yes, he decided, smiling down at the infant as Molly placed her in his arms (without asking, of course). This would not be the only child born on this ship.

Isabelle would have a companion to play with, Khan and Mollys’ son, and perhaps one day the two would marry and produce children of their own.

It was a fine future to look forward to.


	4. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khan and Molly's teenaged daughter has a date, but Daddy objects. Parenty-fluff.

Anonymous asked: Khan intimidating every possible boyfriend or love interest of his daughter.

"Daddy! You promised!!!"

Khan immediately dropped the boy he’d been nearly choking to death. “Sweetie, this boy commented on your breasts within my hearing…”

"Daddy, he was in the other room!" 

Khan sniffed and pulled himself to his full, imposing height, ignoring the feckless boy now cowering at his feet as his daughter glared at him, entirely unintimidated. “You know very well how acute my hearing is, Chaka.”

His daughter huffed and stamped her foot. “Daddy, leave him be. Just let us go on our date, or, or…”

Khan’s brow lowered at the idea of his sixteen-year-old daughter attempting to threaten him. “Or what?” he rumbled in his deepest voice. The fool at this feet whimpered and scrabbled away at the sound, but Chaka merely lowered her own brow and placed her hands on her hips before saying sweetly, “Or I’ll tell Mum.”

Khan prided himself on his ability to remain absolutely still, to give nothing away, but he couldn’t help the uneasy glance he darted toward the door to the rest of the house. Molly was in the kitchen, where she insisted on doing all their cooking by hand rather than using the replicators, and if she heard that he’d been intimidating yet another of Chaka’s young suitors… “Fine,” he growled, turning and stalking away, striding over the youth’s cowering form as if it was of no consequence. Which, naturally, it was. “Enjoy your date,” he spat out as he reached the doorway. 

Time to do some damage control, because he was certain Chaka would still tell Molly some version of the truth, even if she didn’t entirely paint him as the bad guy, after she returned home from her pointless excursion with the worthless fool she’d allowed to escort her this evening.

When, he wondered with an angry pout, would she stop resisting the idea of becoming betrothed to Joachim and Maria’s son Hamish? And why wouldn’t Molly back him up on something they’d both agreed to before Chaka was even born?

As he entered the kitchen, he heard the front door slam shut, and winced. That would alert Molly that things hadn’t entirely gone smoothly with their daughter having said a single word, and he knew he was in for it.

Molly surprised him, however, by smiling and offering him a kiss as he joined her at the stove. “So you intimidated another young hopeful, eh?”

Molly was the only person he ever allowed to see him pout, and he took full advantage of her apparent lack of anger at him to tuck his lower lip out as he wrapped his arms around her. “Why does she persist in selecting the weakest idiots she can find and bringing them home to us?” he grumbled.

Molly laughed and tiptoed up to kiss him on the nose. “Because she knows it annoys you, darling,” she said. “And it helps keep Hamish on his toes.”

She gently unwrapped herself from his embrace and walked over to the smaller of the two refrigeration units while he gaped at her. “Keeps Hamish…you mean she actually…”

"Is in love with him and intends to marry him when they’re both a bit older?" Molly smiled and nodded. "Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying." Her smile turned sly as she added, "After all, like mother, like daughter; never let your man get too complacent or take you for granted!"

Then she winked and made to open the refrigerator door. Khan whirled her around, yanked her against his lean form and kissed her breathless. Grabbing her by the wrist, he tugged her out of the kitchen and toward the stairs leading to their bedroom. “Woman,” he barked as she offered up a laughing protest, “I’ll show you who’s being taken for granted here!”

The rest of the evening was spent very enthusiastically NOT thinking about how his daughter’s date was going.

_(NOTE: Yeah, the name is a bad, bad joke that my older readers should get, but I’m not sorry, so there!)_


	5. Pest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Khan finding that Molly has domesticated a cat like creature that is native to the planet they've colonized. She has named him Toby. Khan is jealous.

"I can’t believe you like that fuzzy little annoyance."

Molly cuddled the small cat-like creature to her chest protectively. “I like you, and you’re just as annoying and not nearly half as cute,” she shot back, ducking her head to hide her grin.

Khan’s scowl deepened, but his hands were gentle as they plucked ‘Toby’ from Molly’s grasp and deposited him in the hall outside their bedroom door. “And yet,” he rumbled as he shut the door on the creature’s protesting yowl and moved toward his wife, “you continue to put up with me.” He grazed her shoulder with his fingertips, pleased as she shivered slightly at his touch. “I wonder why that could be.”

Molly yanked him closer, wrapping her fingers around the lapels of the scarlet dressing gown he’d donned after discarding his black uniform at the end of the day. “Oh, shut up and kiss me,” she growled right back at him, and he proceeded to do that and much, much more.


	6. Legendary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tumblr anonymous said: Majestic Unicorn!Khan leading Molly away from her friends during a day trip. He's been watching her for sometime but he couldn't do anything until he had his crew safe; and Marcus dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unapologietically fluffy and cracktastic.

She'd been on trips to other planets before; she was a xenobiologist, after all, and one could hardly make a career of studying alien flora and fauna while remaining firmly Earthbound. She'd even considered joining Starfleet at one point, but the potential for being caught up in military rather than purely scientific activities had ultimately lead her to stick to a purely civilian education and her current academic career.

However, that didn't mean she wasn't properly grateful when Starfleet offered up the services of one of its mighty starships to ferry her and her students to study a world for potential colonization, to catalog its ecosystem, along with a team of meteorologists, vulcanologists, and various other scientists, for a six-month period.

They'd been there three months now, and Molly was studying a particularly interesting native plant that had some intriguing possibilities as a treatment for meningitis when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

She looked up automatically, expecting to find one of the other scientists or one of her students, but was instead transfixed at the sight of the coal-black beast that stood motionless at the edge of the forest. There were equines on the planet, but none like this; a magnificent creature at least seventeen hands high, with a high, proud head sporting a white blaze…and a dazzling white horn.  


A unicorn. Molly Hooper had travelled to a planet far from Earth and encountered a creature straight out of its oldest legends.

She’d moved forward without realizing it, her tricorder lying forgotten on the ground behind her as she gazed, mesmerized, at the creature. It turned its head and her breath caught at the sight of its eyes; rather than black or deep brown, she saw a gorgeous, blue-green orb with flecks of amber near the pupil. With a soft whicker, the unicorn tossed its head and turned, trotting into the forest with Molly hurrying after it, everything forgotten but the need to be closer to it, to run her hands along its flanks and press her forehead against that soft white blaze, to feel the alabaster smoothness of the wicked-looking horn and gaze once more into those hypnotic eyes…

She came back to herself with a start some unknown time later, looking around wildly as she realized she had no idea where she was or how to find her way back to the camp. The unicorn she’d been following had vanished, and she felt panic start to rise before suddenly it appeared again. They were in a clearing, she finally noticed, the unicorn once again standing in the shadows of the forest while she remained entirely exposed in the center of a shaft of sunlight. At least it was still daylight; she hadn’t been so lost in her pursuit of the animal that more than an hour or two had passed.

Why she’d lost track of any time at all was still a mystery, but once again the unicorn turned its head, and once again she found herself drawn toward it. This time, however, it waited until she’d reached its side and placed a tentative hand on its nose before moving. Not to run, but to kneel gracefully at her feet.

Molly’s breath caught in her throat at the submissive gesture, and she found herself dropping to her knees and catching the noble beast’s neck in an embrace. She felt a tremble go through the warm body, and then suddenly she was no longer holding a creature out of legend in her embrace, but the form of a lean, muscled man.

She squeaked and would have pulled away in alarm, but he refused to let her go, his own arms encircling her petite form, a smile curving his perfect Cupid’s bow lips. His hair was sleek and black, his cheekbones were sharp enough to cut, and his eyes…oh, his eyes! They were exactly the same as they’d been in his other form, and Molly felt her panic calming and vanishing as they held one another’s gazes.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his voice a deep baritone that sent shivers of pure delight down Molly’s spine. “Watching you, hoping to catch you alone so we could…talk.”

Another shiver went down her spine, this one jolting her right to her most feminine core. “Wh…why me?” she asked, breathless with sudden, overwhelming desire. She’d never seen a man like this before, one who affected her so powerfully after a single meeting, and she couldn’t entirely blame it on the fact that he was a shapeshifter whose other form was that of a creature she’d always secretly longed to discover was real.

“Because your love for your work shines through in everything you do,” he replied, reaching up to cup her face with one hand. “As does your intelligence and compassion. My people have a great deal of the first, but we are sadly lacking in the latter.” He leaned down and nuzzled her throat, eliciting a moan of pleasure from her as she clutched him tighter. “Come with me, Molly Hooper, and help us learn. I vow your fellow scientists will come to no harm from us whether you say yes or no.” He pulled back, his expression frank. “My name is Khan Noonien Singh. I have done…terrible things in my past, but I swear to you it was only and ever to keep my people safe. So. Will you come with us, and teach us how to better ourselves, who once believed in our arrogance to already have reached the pinnacle of perfection?”

Molly thought about the life she would be leaving behind, the people who depended on her, her students, her studies…and she remembered the terrible things Khan had been accused of, but also of how Admiral Marcus had been revealed to have driven him to many of those actions. She considered all of that, and then she looked at him again, those incredible eyes, the sincerity she read in them, and knew that there was only one answer she could possibly give.

Holding him close to her heart, she whispered, “Yes.”


	7. Strip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous said: Little ficlet of Khan and Molly playing strip poker?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little smut, a little angst!

"You want to do what?"

Molly put on her bravest smile. "Poker. Winner take all. As in, if I win, you let me go, and if you win, you can have me." She flushed red and attempted to backtrack. "S-sorry, no, I meant I’ll stay your h-hostage..."

Khan chuckled deep in his throat and grasped Molly's chin in his fingers, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "Oh, I knew exactly what you meant, Lieutenant Hooper," he said, that low voice acting like a tuning fork on Molly's nervous system, setting her spine to thrumming...and other parts of her body as well. She did her best to ignore her reaction and not shiver, but suspected by the growing mirth in her captor's eyes that he knew exactly what sort of an effect he was having on her. “And I agree to your terms.”

Molly opened her mouth – to say what, she wasn’t sure – but he stopped her with one finger on her lips. "One condition," he rumbled. Molly waited, eyes wide, breathless, until he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Strip poker. Whoever is completely naked first forfeits. Agreed?"

Molly could only nod her agreement, not trusting to her voice since her mouth had gone completely dry. Oh, God, what had she gotten herself into? Then again, she hadn't expected him to agree to anything, since he already held all the figurative cards.

When he broke out the literal cards, in the small parlor of the cabin where he currently held her, deep in the forest of an unknown planet, she started to panic at the practiced way he shuffled and dealt the first hand, but calmed as she remembered the hours of card playing she'd done since childhood. Hadn't she worked her way through university on her poker winnings?

A half-hour later she was still confident -- and still fully clothed except for her boots, whereas Khan was scowling and shirtless. The scowl Molly could do without, but the shirtless part was very, very nice to see.

Because it meant he was losing, she had to remind her overexcited limbic system as her heart beat a little faster at the sight of the muscles rippling smoothly beneath that pale, sculpted form as Khan stretched and scratched the back of his head. Then he met Molly’s eyes, smirking as if he knew exactly what she was thinking (God, she wished he’d stop doing that!), and laid down his hand.

Oh. So much for her winning streak. Reluctantly Molly revealed her own cards, then stepped out of her stockings.

Ten minutes later she was undoing her uniform dress and folding it carefully on the seat behind her. Khan had to remove his boots after that, then his socks…and then Molly suddenly found herself in nothing but her navy blue Starfleet-issue knickers…and knew with a sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to be wearing them for much longer. Judging by the burning gaze Khan was shooting her way, he was more than looking forward to that moment.

Ten minutes later, Molly was stunned speechless as she turned her cards over in her hands, disbelief writ large on her features. She looked up at Khan, who shrugged, tossed his losing hand on the table, and proceeded to disrobe.

Fully disrobe, at that; he wasn’t wearing any pants beneath his black uniform trousers. Molly’s eyes traveled downward and stopped at the massive erection he was currently sporting, her mouth gone very, very dry again. 

She might have made a noise, a little squeak or gasp; when she managed to tear her eyes away from Khan’s magnificent physique and meet his eyes again, she saw they’d gone from sea-blue to nearly black with desire. She rose abruptly to her feet, her chair falling over as she scrambled backwards until she was stopped by the cabin wall, Khan advancing on her the entire time like some feral beast stalking helpless prey.

Molly pressed her hands against the wall and took a deep, shuddering breath as Khan stopped, just in front of her. His hand landed on either side of her head and he bent his face down so their eyes could meet. “Well, Lieutenant Hooper, it appears that you’ve won. I suppose I’ll have to set you free now. Well, actually what I plan to do is leave you here, tied up,” he ran one finger down her shoulder to her wrist, and she shuddered at the heat of his touch. “After I’ve made my escape, I’ll activate the emergency beacon, alerting Starfleet to your location. Would that be an acceptable arrangement, or do you have other terms you’d care to impose on me? Seeing as you’ve beaten me and all.” 

He smiled, a slow, wicked smile, and Molly knew, she absolutely _knew_ , that he’d allowed her to win. And with that knowledge came another realization; that she would not, _could_ not, let him leave without having touched that glorious, perfect body at least once.

As if reading her intent in her eyes, he moved with the suddenness of a striking cobra, grasping her by the upper arms and yanking her tight against his naked body, crashing his lips down on hers for a scorching, possessive kiss that she returned in a fever of primal want.

At some point her arms had wound themselves around his neck; at some other point he’d wrenched off her knickers, tearing the sturdy fabric as if it were tissue paper. Then her legs were wrapped around his waist and her chest was mashed to his and he was deep, deep inside her, thrusting and rutting, his hands holding firm to her bottom and her back slammed up against the wall. Her hair was loose, no longer caught up in the elastic she’d been wearing during the poker game; her lips were latched desperately to his throat, sucking a deep, purple-red mark just over his pulse point as he growled his pleasure in her ear. Her hips moved with the same frantic rhythm as his, and a hoarse cry was torn from her throat as her orgasm overcame her, unexpected and overpowering. He followed not long after, holding her to him as they both waited for their heartbeats to slow, for their breathing to return to normal.

He took her to his bed afterwards, and showed her time and again just how much stamina an Augmented male had compared to normal humans. And when the time came, after she’d showered and redressed herself as best she could considering that unusable state of her knickers; after he’d bound her wrists behind her back and manacled her ankles and stood over her with a sedative in his hand…there was a look in his eyes that Molly would never forget. As if he was struggling with some impulse. She held her breath; would he change his mind and take her with him when he fled Earth? Part of her screamed yes, please, but the sensible, rational part of her knew it was just the utterly fantastic sex they’d spent the past twenty-four hours indulging in. Ultimately, Khan would be caught and tried for his crimes; if she went with him, then her own life would be ruined as well, her reputation destroyed and her loyalty to the Federation questioned.

She saw the moment he recognized where her true desires lay; his expression hardened, he gave a sharp nod, and then she heard the hiss of the hypo as he injected her with the sedative.

As she descended into unconsciousness, Molly could have sworn she felt the brush of his lips across her forehead, and heard him murmur, “Take care, Molly Hooper. I’ll always treasure our time together.” Then she fell into darkness, and when she woke it was to the concerned voices of Starfleet rescue and medical personnel.

But she never forgot, and when she heard he’d been taken prisoner and once more encased in his cryotube, the tears she wept weren’t for his defeat, but for the man he might have been, for the life the two of them might have shared, had things been different.


	8. Carwash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things get a bit...weird...over on tumblr. Resulting in crackficlets like this one. Enjoy?

Time travel hadn’t been top on his list of things to do once he was freed from Admiral Marcus’ stranglehold, but Khan supposed it beat the alternative. When the top secret Starfleet Time Corps had approached him, in the frozen moments between his capture by Commander Spock and his Amazonian lover Nyota Uhura and his return to the cryotubes, he’d not hesitated even a moment before agreeing to their terms.

In exchange for assisting them in the matter of preventing the death of one Molly Hooper, medical student in the year 1977, he and his fellow Augments would be whisked away from the 24th century and given a home on a planet far from the Federation, at any point in the timeline that he wished. The one thing he would not be allowed was to return to Earth or any planets Earth would or had ever encountered, but that was a small price and one he was more than willing to pay.

Thus it was he found himself in the United States of America, which the North American Confederacy had been called in the centuries before his rise to power, working at a menial job whilst awaiting the arrival of Molly Hooper. Who was currently in the US visiting a cousin during her summer break. And about to be hit by a careless driver if he, Khan, didn’t prevent that accident from happening.

He scowled at the vehicle parked in front of him, to which he was currently delivering the finishing touches. The heat of a southern California summer’s day was unbearable, even to someone whose physiology had been genetically bred to endure extremes of temperature. His grey t-shirt clung to his body like a second skin, soaked with sweat, and finally he could stand it no longer. With a growl he snatched up the hem of the offending garment, ripped it up over his head and tossed it to the ground behind him.

The sound of a woman sucking in her breath caught his attention; he paused in the act of squatting down to run a rag around the chrome wheel cover, and found a very pleasant sight indeed: a petite young woman with chestnut-colored hair tied back from her face in a pair of girlish plaits, wearing a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a cheery yellow halter top embroidered with small bunches of red cherries. Although her eyes were covered by a pair of outrageously oversized sunglasses, he knew they would be brown. And very, very wide as they took in his chiseled form. “Molly Hooper,” Khan said in a tone of deep satisfaction.

She took a nervous step backward as he rose to his full height and stared down at her. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked as she clutched her shoulder bag tightly to her chest. The fact that she covered said chest was not to his liking, not in the least, but he tolerated it for the moment.

“No,” he replied, bending down to retrieve his discarded upper garment. “But I know you. Molly Hooper, aged twenty-two, on holiday to visit your cousin Karen who relocated to Los Angeles two years previous due to her position as an airline stewardess for United Airlines. You’re studying pathology at St. Bart’s Medical School in London, and this is the first holiday you’ve taken since your father passed away three years ago.” He took a step forward, and she took another nervous step backwards. “You are destined for a very, very intriguing future, Miss Hooper. That is,” he added smoothly as he pounced, yanking her close to his body and spinning them both out of the path of the motorist who had just shot out of the entrance to the automated portion of the car wash, “if you aren’t prematurely killed by that idiot.”

Said idiot had slammed on the brakes and rolled down his window, stuttering out an apology to the woman he’d nearly run over. Khan gave the fool his darkest, most intimidating scowl and waved at him to move on, which he did. Immediately. Nearly running down yet another pedestrian in his haste to escape the wrath of…

“Who are you?” Molly breathed, staring up at him. Her sunglasses had been knocked askew and she was peering over the tops, eyes wide and just as brown as he’d seen from the images the Time Corps liaison had shown him. “How did you…why did you…”

Instead of answering her, Khan gave into temptation, leaning down to press his lips to hers in a possessive kiss. Her hands clutched his bare shoulders as she returned the kiss with equal fervor; Khan’s eyebrow rose as he felt the telltale sensation of a transporter locking onto their forms but continued the kiss regardless.

When he and Molly rematerialized on the transporter pad at the Time Corps HQ, she only had a second to gape at the new world into which she’d been deposited before the hiss of gas filling the chamber sent her into temporary oblivion. Khan, of course, being immune to most anesthetic gasses, simply caught her crumpling form in his arms and carried her to the door. It opened only after the remainder of the gas had been purged from the room; as expected, his liaison was waiting for him in the corridor outside.

“Tell me why I was sent to save her life if you intended for her to join us here all along,” Khan barked.

Lt. Bells shrugged. “Because if I’d told you she was going to be your wife if she lived then you might not have cooperated as beautifully as you did. After all, you’re a notorious ladies man, Khan; we had no way of predicting if you would still save the woman who was going to put an end to that portion of your life.”

Khan smiled down at the unconscious form resting so lightly in his arms. “Oh, Lieutenant,” he said softly, “I already knew I wanted her the moment you showed me her images. You could have spared us all the trouble and simply had her beamed directly into my quarters.”

Bells grinned. “Nah,” she said happily. “This way she got to see you save her life…and with your shirt off! You have a much better chance of winning her under those circumstances!”

Then she stepped aside and allowed Khan to take his fated bride to his quarters. 

She sighed happily as he vanished from sight. He and Molly were going to make _excellent_ Time Corps agents.


	9. Out of Character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mikotoawase on tumblr said: SOMEONE WRITE A PWP OOC KHANOLLY
> 
> So there was a set of pictures on tumblr with Benedict Cumberbatch being goofy. Including a gif of him as Khan. Being goofy. Which inspired the previous request and the drabble that follows. Sorry, i didn't get the PWP part but I think the OOC is there! Total crack and no apologies and it's a darn good thing I don't own these characters or scenes like this would happen in the movie!

"You see, Molly, the thing is…" Khan stumbled over his words the way he was stumbling along the hallway behind the petite pathologist. Who scowled over her shoulder and made ‘hurry it up motions’ as she continued marching toward the morgue. 

When Khan fell silent, Molly glanced over her shoulder again. “Well? Spit it out,” she said with a huff. “I haven’t got all day, John. There are four bodies in there that I need to autopsy from that mysterious blast at the ‘Kelvin Memorial Archive’ earlier.” She made sarcastic air quotes as she spoke; everyone in Starfleet knew the true use to which that building had been put - Section 31 was the worst kept secret in the Federation!

"I um, I sort of…I blew it up!" Khan blurted. That finally brought Molly to a stop; she turned and glared at him. 

"You did what?" she gritted out through clenched teeth. 

Khan - or John Harrison, as she currently knew him - hung his head and shuffled his feet like a small child caught out by an angry parent. “I, um, well, I didn’t actually blow it up myself,” he said, looking studiously at his feet. “I sort of bribed someone to do it for me. To get back at Admiral Marcus for killing my crew!”

"What crew?" Molly demanded as she moved closer to him and peered up at him. "Since when do you have a crew? You’ve never even been on a space ship, John!"

"Yes, I have! And one I designed and built myself!" he snapped as he finallyl met her eyes. He straightened his shoulders and tried to look more imposing; he’d once ruled a large part of the world, dammit, how could this one woman always make him feel like an unruly child and an awkward teenager at the same time? "And my name isn’t John Harrison," he added in a rush, before he lost his nerve. Again. This was the third time he’d tried to tell her the truth. "My name is Khan! Khan Noonian Singh!" He stood proudly and waited for her reaction.

Molly didn’t cower or cringe; she didn’t stare at him in shock or shrink away in horror. She did the last thing he’d have expected: she laughed. Then shook her head ruefully and said, “Honesly, John, you had me until the whole Khan thing. If you want to ask me out, all you had to do was ask! How about dinner after my shift is over? That place you like near the Golden Gate Bridge?”

Stuttering out a yes, Khan stared after Molly with a goofy smile on his face. But as soon as she vanished from sight, he mentally smacked himself. She didn’t believe him! She thought he was some…big goofy idiot!

Still, it was a start. At least she’d agreed to go out with him. Not that he could actually make the date since he’d be busy killing off a bunch of Starfleet captains and first officers and - with any luck - Admiral Marcus as well. Then fleeing to Klingon space…hmmm. 

As he walked away, Khan wondered how easy it would be to have the long-distance warp device take two people to the Klingon homeworld rather than just one.  


At least then Molly would finally believe him!


	10. Watched

"Khan?"

"Yes, Molly?"

"Do you ever have the feeling we're being...watched?"

"As if someone is following our every move, listening to our every word, enjoying our every intimate moment?"

"Yes! That's it exactly! Do you ever feel that way?"

Khan chuckled and cuddled his Royal Consort closer to his naked form. "It's just a byproduct of being the leaders of the world, my love. You'll get used to it." He slipped her shoulder free of the silken kimono she was wearing as they stood on their private balcony, then dropped a kiss to her tender flesh. "Now, where were we?" he murmured as his hand slid up her arms.

Molly sighed and tilted her head to give him better access to the most sensitive part of her throat. "Right about...here," she murmured in reply, reveling in the feel of his hard form behind her. 

They sank down to the balcony floor, unmindful of the hard pavement beneath them, content to be in one another's arms no matter who might be watching or listening.


	11. Long Live The Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For benedicted-cumberbatch on tumblr. She made me do it. Sorry not sorry indeed!

It wasn’t easy, being the consort to the most powerful man in the world. It would be even more difficult after the official coronation in a week’s time, when Molly Hooper would be crowned Empress.

As she stared out at the deepening blues of the twilight sky, the first stars appearing as the sun sunk below the horizon, she wondered if she was a fool for allowing Khan to talk her into taking on the burden of co-rulership with him.

Then she glanced back at the man sleeping in their bed, dark hair rumpled and falling over his eyes, that gorgeous, powerful body proudly naked on top of the even more rumpled sheets and silken coverlet, and she smiled.

Yes, Molly decided as she removed her dressing gown and slid back beneath the covers, resting her head on Khan’s shoulder, it was well worth it and always would be. To be loved by this man was a thrill like no other, and she was already a target just by choosing to be by his side; what difference would a crown make, really?

“You are thinking rather loudly, my love.” She felt the rumble of his voice as well as heard it, and wound her arm round his waist, nestling closer to him. “What troubles you so tonight? Is it the coronation?”

“Less the coronation than what comes after,” Molly confessed. There was no point in keeping anything from him; like the human whose genome had been the building blocks of the Augment program, Khan was a deductive genius. He was also a man who well knew the moods of his consort, just as she had learned to know every nuance of his.

“Do you wish to remain simply my consort, with no official responsibilities outside your medical labs and those tedious social engagements we are forced to endure?” One arm had encircled her slight form, those long, elegant fingers stroking her bare flesh and raising a delicious heat that Molly had thought fully sated this evening.

“No.” Molly’s response was firm, unhesitating. She’d already made her decision and not even the coldest of cold feet would force her to back out now. She would stand proudly by Khan’s side, supporting his efforts to bring peace to ever corner of the globe as he’d been not only trained by literally born and bred to do. She might not be a full-blooded Augment, but the genetic enhancements she’d willingly undergone in order to be able to live this life, to defend herself and any children they might have, had made her stronger in so many ways, physically and mentally; even before she’d willingly submitted to those alterations, she never was the type to back away from a challenge.

“Good.” With that single word, Khan rolled himself on top of her and lowered his head to hers for a passionate kiss. Molly returned it with equal passion, her tongue meeting his thrusts and her hands tangling in his dark hair. She felt his mouth moving downward, sliding along her throat, nipping at her pulse and pulling moan after moan from her lips.

He continued moving down her body, that glorious mouth pausing only to lovingly suck each of her taut, staining nipples into his mouth, teasing them with his tongue and with sharp nips of his teeth before finally releasing her in order to press a series of damp kisses down her abdomen. Molly widened her legs, laughing as he threw them over his shoulders, the laughter quickly turning to cries of pleasure as he set to work at turning her into a writhing, moaning mess.

She came hard, harder than she had only a few hours earlier, when she and Khan had first repaired to their private chambers. And when he slid back up her body, lips and chin glistening with her juices, a satisfied gleam in his sea-green eyes, she pulled him down for a demanding kiss, knowing how much he loved it when she tasted herself on his lips.

“Khan, make love to me,” she whispered when the kiss ended, pressing her lips to the lobe of his ear and sucking it into her mouth. He groaned and fumbled between his legs, eventually pressing his prick deep inside her. She grinned; it was always lovely to see him come undone just by a few words and the feeling of her mouth on his body. No one else got to see him like this; only she was allowed to view the Emperor aching and eager as an untried boy.

And only she was allowed to receive him into her body, the full, hard, hot length of him. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, ankles locked behind his back, hips tilted as he started moving rhythmically into her body. She met his thrusts eagerly, panting into his ear, feeling his hot breaths on her own flesh as they began the steep climb toward their mutual pleasure.

“I love you,” Khan muttered into her skin. “I adore you, you have no idea how much you matter, Molly, how much I long for you to be my Empress, mother of my children, the only woman worthy of that title…”

Molly let out a low, gasping laugh. “Which title, my love?” she whispered back, stroking his hair, winding her fingers through the thick, dark locks. “Empress, or mother of your children?”

“Both,” he gasped out, pounding into her with a fierce desperation. “Always and forever, my love.”

“Yes,” she sighed, then felt her body approaching the apex and dug her nails into his scalp. He hissed and increased his pace, knowing that as her signal that she needed him to fuck her harder, faster, to bring her over the edge and join her in that glorious rise and fall.

He roared out his climax shortly after she cried out her own, calling his name and reveling in the sound of hers falling from his lips.

They lay together, sweating and panting, until the aftershocks had come and gone, the little earthquakes shuddering through their bodies. When their hearts had slowed to normal and their breathing eased, they curled together, Khan’s arms protectively around Molly’s body, and she knew he would do everything in his power to keep her – and eventually, their children – safe.

It was a warming thought to carry into the darkness of sleep.


	12. Tango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tumblr anon asked: I know you have a lot of WIPs and you always deliver great fics, but if inspiration and the mood strike, I would love a mini fic about Khan trying to seduce Molly with a rose between his teeth. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wrote this a while ago and can't believe I never posted it here, whoops!

The first time Molly Hooper, Admiral Marcus' PA, saw the man she knew as Jonathan Harris, he was dancing. They were at some tedious Starfleet function where her job was to observe and say nothing, but the bolt of desire that shot through her at the sight of the handsome Section 31 Agent (which was a secret that only she and Marcus knew) made her throw caution to the wind. She knew she wasn't femme fatale material, but she wished ardently for him to notice her, and was pleased that she'd worn the dress Marcus' daughter Carol had helped her pick out, rather than one of her normal, much more frumpy gowns. The ones that helped her do her job of fading into the wallpaper. Marcus hadn't been particularly pleased to see Molly in the bright yellow sleeveless sheathe, but he hadn't said anything beyond a snippy, "Going a little overboard with the colors tonight, aren't we Lt. Hooper?"

The one man she wanted to notice her barely gave her a glance as the night progressed, and she forced herself to stop fretting over it. Clearly she wasn't the type to catch such a fascinating man's eye; she should have just went with the blah beige gown instead, like the Admiral would have preferred, and slunk around listening in on other people's conversations. Mining intel from the bland conversations surrounding her when all she wanted to do was ask Lt. Harris to dance.

Near the end of the night, after she'd had a few too many glasses of wine, movement from the periphery of the dance floor caught her attention, and her breath left her in a whoosh as she saw him. Lt. Harris was dancing with a beautiful brunette in a flattering lavender gown; the woman held a long-stemmed white rose in one hand and was teasing him with it, running the soft petals along the sides of his face. It was a wonder the bloom didn't fall apart as she caressed his sharp, elegant cheekbones, Molly thought despairingly, then started to turn away. It was her job to be mousy and unnoticeable, and apparently she'd succeeded all to well at that job.

However, what caught her attention this time wasn't movement, but the sound of a woman calling out. "John? Where are you going?"

Molly turned again, curious, and was stunned to see the handsome, mysterious lieutenant (his records were restricted even from her view, unprecedented!) had abandoned his partner and was striding directly toward her. Molly's brown eyes widened and she stared as he approached her, the rose now in his hand instead of his former dance partner's. "Lt. Hooper," he said, bowing as he reached her side. "Would you do me the honor?" Then he clenched the rose in his teeth as the music morphed into a dark, smoky tango.

Like a woman in a trance, Molly accepted his outstretched hand, and allowed him to guide her into the seductive moves of the dance. How he knew she'd been classically trained was beyond her; she knew Marcus would be furious with her for giving away one of her unknown — and therfore potentially useful — skills, but couldn't find it in herself to care as she was drawn into the embrace of the fascinating man she'd just been admiring.

Later, when their dancing was continued in her flat and became far more intimate, she still remembered the sight of him with the rose clenched in his teeth. After he was revealed to be none other than the infamous late 21st century war criminal Khan Noonien Singh, she still treasured her memories of that night, of the dances they'd shared both public and private

And every time she saw the product of their union, their son John Hooper, she was reminded of the beauty and mysterious allure of John Harrison, and sighed over might-have-beens from her home-in-exile on New Zealand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Zealand is shown in Star Trek: Voyager to be a penal colony/rehab facility.


	13. What Do You Need?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a picset on tumblr, with Khan in the Enterprise brig juxtaposed with Molly from TRF, and it inspired this little drabble. Enjoy!

"Molly, I think I’m going to die."

"What do you need?"

"You."

He’d been afraid to approach her. He, Khan, afraid! The very notion was laughable. And yet it was true. Now that Molly Hooper knew who he really was, surely she would shrink from him, turn him away - or turn him in as the war criminal he’d once been, so many, many years ago. But no, she’d not shrunk from his presence, not spurned him as he well knew he deserved. Instead she’d held her ground in the semi-darkness of the morgue where she was currently stationed, undercover on Marcus’ commands and supposedly hidden away from Khan as his crew had been.

Only the admiral hadn’t been nearly as canny with the young Section 31 agent as he’d been with the seventy-two augments he’d held hostage until recently. Dead, now, all dead, all of them; no one left that Khan held any affection for.

Except her. Dare he hope that she still held affection for him, after all the lies and manipulations they’d perpetrated upon one another for the sake of their differing agendas? Could she believe that even though ‘John Harrison’ had never truly existed, that Khan Noonian Singh still held her in his heart?

He stepped forward, unashamed of the single tear that tracked its way down his cheek, reaching out hesitantly to cup her face. She turned and placed a gentle kiss on his palm before covering his hand with her own and meeting his gaze frankly and openly. “Even though you’re not who I thought you were, who you were told you had to be, I will always be here for you,” she said, then tiptoed up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

A kiss, and a promise. He returned it gratefully, feeling the soothing balm of knowing he had one person who loved him to heal his aching soul. Perhaps his plans for vengeance against Marcus could be set aside; with Molly by his side, he might at last find the peace he’d long craved.


	14. Drink Her In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starfleet investigates a new planet, and Lt. Molly Hooper discovers a new lifeform...and possibly a new life for herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Liathwen, sorry for forgetting you my dear!

Khan’s eyes glowed with an unearthly light, his fangs slipping their sheathes at the sight of Molly Hooper’s naked form, alabaster and glowing in the soft moonlight. She remained unaware of his presence as she bathed in the pool at the waterfall’s base, but only for as long as it took him to remove his dark clothing and join her in the cool, thigh-deep water.

Molly gasped as he appeared before her, eyes glowing mysterious and blue in the moonlight. “Wh-who are you?” she whispered, not recognizing the darkly handsome stranger; he wasn’t one of the landing party and this planet was supposed to be devoid of humanoid life.

"My name is Khan," he said, his voice a silky whisper that raised goosebumps on her naked flesh. Oh, she’d taken a horrible risk to come out here alone, under the two small moons of this planet’s night, but she’d been unable to resist the allure of the waterfall and the thought of fresh, unrecycled water to bathe in. Had she brought herself into peril of some unknown predator? The fangs glinting in the moonlight and the feral expression on his face told her she should run, but there was something about the tall, pale stranger that kept her rooted in place.

Khan’s smile deepened as he recognized the rising desire in the Starfleet lieutenant’s eyes; he took in the sight of the slight flush on her torso and cheeks, the way her breathing had gone a bit ragged, heard the thundering echo of her heartbeat over the crashing of the nearby waterfall. “This is my planet, Molly,” he said as he moved closer, drifting so slowly she could barely detect the movement until he was right in front of her. He watched as her eyes drank in the sight of him, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of his proud erection, knowing that she very much liked what she saw. “Everything and everyone on this planet belongs to me.”

"I belong to no one," she whispered, the words meant as a quiet defiance but with a definite question to them. "I’m a Starfleet officer…"

"Whose uniform lies along with her phaser and communicator on the banks of this pond," he pointed out, his hand drifting up to press itself to her hip. Her sudden intake of breath told him his touch was unexpected but not unwelcome; if she so chose, she could turn and flee at any point, and in spite of his possessive, arrogant words, he wouldn’t stop her. 

But she didn’t flee. The only movement she made was to lean forward just the smallest bit; he took that movement for the invitation it was, and pulled her into his embrace, lowering his mouth to hers for a passionate kiss.

Molly knew this was insanity, that she should be scrambling for shore and her possessions, but the instant the stranger - Khan - pressed his mouth to hers she knew she was lost. She returned his kiss hungrily, allowed him to pull her body flush to his, and felt the heat of that lovely erection burning against her hip. Instinct alone caused her to raise one leg, water dripping down in a pitter-pat of tiny splashes as she snugged it against his hip. She felt the tips of his fangs, so pearly in the moonlight, brushing against her tongue as the kiss deepened, and sighed in mingled pain-pleasure at the sensation. His own tongue invaded, lapping eagerly at the tiny droplets of blood welling up, and another instinct, just as primal as the lust that was rapidly overwhelming her, caused her to pull away and tilt her head to one side, offering her throat to him.

Khan’s breath caught as Molly tilted her head, her long, cinnamon-coloured hair falling to the side as she bared her throat to him. Long-denied needs overwhelmed him, and without a moment’s hesitation his mouth was hovering over her pulse point, his fangs lengthening further into feeding mode. With a growl of hunger - not only hunger for her blood, but hunger for _her_ \- he drove his fangs into her throat, sucking greedily at the hot, coppery tang of her blood as it filled his mouth.

Molly gasped and reached up, her hands tugging at the sleek blackness of Khan’s hair as he drank in her blood. She should be terrified, disgusted, but all she felt was a pooling warmth between her legs, the hammering of her heart in her chest and an overweening need to have more of him. One hand drifted down and ghosted over the hot flesh of his erection; he pulled his mouth from her throat and kissed her wildly, the taste of her blood on his lips and the knowledge that she had the power to utterly undo so savage and primal a being sure in her heart.

Khan lifted Molly into his arms, moving quickly to the shore, laying her down on the dewy grass before lowering his body over hers. His fingers drifted down between her legs, finding her more than ready for him; he kissed her again as he positioned himself, then pulled back and made sure to meet her eyes, waiting for her eager nod before plunging deep inside her.

Molly gasped and cried out, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms pulling him closer, encouraging his mouth to once again find her throat. Khan responded without hesitation, his fangs once again buried in her racing pulse as his hips drove with a desperate rhythm she did her best to match. Her first orgasm came within minutes; she cried out again, digging her fingernails into his shoulders as he pulled his mouth from her throat in order to kiss her with a wildness and desperation she was easily able to match. She came a second time when his hand drifted down between their joined bodies, unerringly finding her clit and rubbing soft circles over the hardened bundle of nerves. 

Her orgasm spurred his; he came with a roar, blackness darkening his vision for a brief, endless moment. When he came back to himself he found that he’d rolled them so that she was snugged up against him, her head on his shoulder, his arms enfolding her petite form.

"How did you know my name?" she asked after a few minutes or an eternity had passed.

"I’ve been keeping watch on you and your crewmates since you arrived," was his reply. "Making sure you’re no danger to me or my world."

"This is just a survey," Molly replied, fingers reaching up to trace lazy patterns on his chest. "We’re not staying very long, only another day or two."

"I won’t allow one of your Federation colonies here," he said firmly. "Not unless they’re willing to accept me as their ruler."

"I’ll be sure to put that in my report before I hand in my resignation," she replied sleepily.

Khan smiled as her breathing evened out. Oh, she was perfect, the mate he’d been longing for all these lonely centuries. He could hardly wait to introduce her to the rest of his kind - and to see the expression on her commanding officer’s face when she explained not only why this world wasn’t suitable for colonization after all, but why she wouldn’t be leaving with the rest of them.

She had a singular determination to her that told him who would win any ensuing argument.

With that thought, he joined her in slumber, confident that they’d remain undisturbed until morning, when the red sun of this planet would awaken them, it’s rays fortunately not having the same effect as the yellow sun of their shared homeworld would.

He very much looked forward to spending the rest of eternity with her by his side.


	15. Overprotective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon said: Overprotective!Khan freaking out when Molly gets a minor head cold. Basically rolling her into a blanket burrito before curling around her himself, and adding even more blankets to the already over stuffed bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow Daddy!Khan crept into this prompt. Sorrynotsorry! Rated K+ and possibly slightly cracky.

"Khan, you’re smothering me," Molly said crossly, trying - and failing - to push him away. "Besides you might catch whatever I’ve got!"

"I’m an Augment, Molly," he huffed, hauling her squirming form closer to his and wrapping his arms around her. "Even alien viruses such as this one have proven to be no match for my superior biology. Which is yet another reason why you should let my geneticist…"

The mildly ill pathologist raised her head from the pillow and glared at him. “We’ve had this discussion before, Khan. And no matter how many times you ask, no, I am NOT getting genetically altered into a superwoman just to avoid catching a head cold!”

"But Molly," he whined, and she shushed him with a single look.

"Fine," he growled after a moment. "But as soon as the baby’s born and you find he’s a bit much for you to handle, you’ll be begging for me to have your strength and immune system boosted!"

"If we ever have children, Khan, we’ll talk about it," Molly replied sternly.

Khan raised an eyebrow and grinned at her. “What, you mean you haven’t noticed yet? Your erratic appetite, your occasional nausea, the tenderness of your breasts…” He ghosted his hand over the body parts in question, and Molly batted them away as she absorbed what he was telling her.

"Oh, bollocks," she groaned, burying her face in the pile of pillows Khan had added to their bed. "I should have known no Federation birth control could withstand your - your - super sperm! And don’t you dare laugh at me," she added with a glower, peeking up at him with one eye.

Khan, who was, indeed, grinning, instantly sobered. “Never, my love,” he said, smoothing her hair away from her forehead and coaxing her into nestling against him. “I would never laugh at the mother of my children. Even when she’s being ridiculously stubborn, and overreacting.”

Molly sighed and bit back a comment about how she wasn’t the only one overreacting, considering how many blankets she was currently cocooned in! Oh well, she thought with a sigh, allowing her eyes to droop shut. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about ignored throughout her pregnancy, if this was any indication. And their child certainly wouldn’t want for attention from either parent when he or she finally arrived!

Right now, though, all she wanted to do was sleep off the cold - and dream of a dark-haired baby girl with her father’s blue-green eyes and elegant cheekbones.

She fell asleep to the soft sound of Khan humming an almost-forgotten lullaby from her childhood.


	16. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Khanolly blog on tumblr recently scored 400 followers, so I opened it up for one word ficlet prompts. This is the first one. Very angsty, rated T/M.
> 
> monimccoythings answered: Any rating: monster

He’s a monster, a cold-blooded murderer hundreds, thousands, millions of times over. He’s single-handedly brought down the Federation to avenge the deaths of his followers at the hands of Section 31 and Starfleet, allied himself with the Klingons and turned Earth into his personal playground, enslaved humanity and reveled in every depraved act.

His name is Khan, although he allowed the fiction of ‘John Harrison’ to survive just long enough for Molly to fall hopelessly under his thrall. If the Earth is his playground, her body is his temple, to worship or defile at his whim. He crooks his smallest finger and she comes running, panting into his arms, whimpering at his cruel kisses and the harsh thrust of his body against hers. She has betrayed everyone she loved, broken every vow she’d ever made, her oath to Starfleet, her own personal moral code, again and again, all at his behest. All for him.

And worst is the fact that she knows she would do it all over again, even knowing the hideous consequences, just for one cold smile of approval from those luscious, full lips. Lips that have covered every inch of her body, wrung cry after cry from her own lips - cries of pain and pleasure until she can no longer tell one from the other.

She weeps at night, sometimes; sometimes he takes her in his arms as if to offer comfort, and sometimes he ignores her tears and joins their bodies as if she were begging him to do so…and maybe that is, indeed, what she’s doing. She is no longer certain if she weeps for the worlds she helped to destroy, for the woman she used to be…or for the love she still holds for Khan.

He’s a monster, but he’s her monster.

So what does that make her?


	17. Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second 400 Followers ficlet, this one for snowfursong's prompt.

He is known as The Dragon of the North amongst his own kind, but the humans in his territory simply call him Khan. When he and the other dragons - seventy-three in all - rose from their eons long slumber to find that humans had developed a society almost as complex as the ones the dragons had created once upon a time, and that they were on the verge of destroying that civilization just as dragonkind had, Khan and the others felt compelled to save them from their own folly. Earth was too precious a resource to be devastated by global war and plague twice over.

He walked among them in his human form from time to time, hidden in plain sight, to hear their private mutterings for himself. He’d ruled for three hundred years, carefully guided his personal flock so that their scientific advances no longer marched ahead of their morality, just as his seventy-two brothers and sisters had done, and now peace was no longer a vanishing goal but a reality.

And so it was time. Time for him to find a mate among the humans, a woman who would be worthy of helping him to rule, to continue guiding her fellow humans toward a golden future for all.

He found her in the most unexpected of places, surrounded by death in the bowels of a hospital in the city the humans called London. She was a quiet woman, but her outward shyness hid a heart that beat fiercely in her chest. At first she seemed to flinch from him, to cower as if he wore his dragonish form, but as he continued to visit her, gradually she showed her true colors, passed every test he threw at her, and warmed his own heart until he knew no other woman would do.

The day he brought her to his palace and revealed himself to her, she didn’t run or collapse or babble as she was wont to do when nervous; she simply nodded and waited for him to return to his human form. “You knew,” he said wonderingly.

"Not at first, but yes, I knew," she replied, gazing up at him through brown eyes that seemed to dominate her face. He stepped closer, and she laid a hand on his chest, smiling at him. "I just didn’t know why, until now."

"And now?" he asked, laying his hand over hers, allowing her to feel the feverish heat his body retained even in this form.

She tiptoed up and kissed him. “Yes,” she said simply.

And just like that, Khan had found his queen.

And her name was Molly.


	18. Reproduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for welovesherlolly, this is her prompt!

"The price is children."

Molly stares at him, unsure of what he is asking until he clarifies. "Our children, Molly. You will bear sons and daughters for me."

"H-how many?" she whispers, although it is a moot point. Just by asking she has already agreed to his terms, the terms he has set for not destroying the _Enterprise_ and its crew, for releasing Captain Kirk and Chief Engineer Scott and Doctor Marcus. 

Khan smiles at her, a cruel smile, as he pulls her into his arms. "As many as I ask you for," he whispers against her lips before kissing her brutally.

He takes her right there on the bridge of the aptly-named Vengeance, pulling her onto his lap as he lounges in the captain's chair. She resists only until he fulfills his own promise and beams the others back to their damaged ship - she can no longer think of it as hers as she knows she will never see it again. She knows he allows her that resistance; he can force her easily, he is so much stronger than a mere human woman, and finds herself pathetically grateful to him for demonstrating that he is, indeed, a man of his word. She watches the _Enterprise_ as it becomes smaller and smaller in the viewscreen as the _Vengeance_ speeds away from it, feeling numb as Khan calmly removes her uniform and underclothes.

When she is naked, he retakes his seat and beckons her forward; she moves helplessly toward him, the attraction she'd felt upon first sight not one whit diminished by her knowledge of his true identity. He pulls her into his lap and through the rough fabric of his trousers she feels the hot flesh of his erection pressing against her core as she settles her knees on either side of his muscular thighs.

He allows her to fumble open his trousers, moving his hips obligingly when she tugs at his waistband, revealing a complete lack of pants beneath the black fabric. His cock springs free, heavy and red and thick and hot beneath her fingers, and Molly's breath catches in her throat.

She forces her eyes up to meet his. "This is strictly for reproduction," she says, as much to remind herself of the cold bargain as to confirm this is what he wants from her.

As her eyes meet his, he smiles; not the cold, predatory smile she's seen from him before, but something that actually warms the icy blue-green of his eyes. He reaches up and strokes long fingers down the side of her face. "Not entirely," he says huskily, then pulls her close for a hungry, possessive kiss.

When he reaches between their bodies and guides his cock into her slit, she is already wet and ready for him. She should be ashamed; after all, this man is a murderer many times over, a wanted terrorist in her own century and the fugitive war criminal of one long past, but all she feels is _want_ and _need_ and the sense of coming home as he eases his way into her body.  


Soon she is rocking above him, his hands firm on her hips, his mouth sucking dark marks into her throat and the flesh above her collarbones and she is crying out with pleasure, shuddering as her orgasm washes over her with unexpected suddenness. As soon as she has regained herself Khan increases the pace of his own thrusts, nearly brutal as his fingertips dig into her hips and her arms wrap around his shoulders so she can rest her forehead against his. She hears him give a strangled cry, his breath warm against her heated flesh, and a thrill goes over her as he calls out her name.

In the end they will have four children, three girls and a boy; their firstborn, Jenna, is born on the _Vengeance_ but the others are born in the small home he builds for them to share, on their small colony on a planet far from Federation space. The other Augments treat her no differently than they do one another, and welcome the children with a quiet joy that fills Molly's heart with the same emotion every time.

Never, ever does she regret the bargain she made with Khan. The devil's deal has become the most precious gift she has ever received, and her long, happy life is filled with contentment.


	19. Sick-Grumpy-Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> savetheworldbutloseyou answered: sick-grumpy-baby. Hyphens make it one word, right? Totally not cheating…

“Please?”

“No.” Khan turned his head away, refusing once again to take the medicine Molly was trying to coax into him. “I’m an Augment,” he mumbled petulantly as he huddled deeper into the blankets on their bed. “I don’t get sick.”

“You’re an Augment,” Molly agreed in that maddeningly patient tone of voice he currently hated with a violence usually reserved for people named ‘Marcus’. “But you’re also from three hundred years in the past, when Earth hadn’t had any real contact with the rest of the galaxy, and so your immune system – superior though we both know it to be,” she interrupted herself, correctly interpreting his intention to set her straight on that matter, “your immune system still has to learn to deal with alien pathogens that have managed to adapt themselves to human physiology. So. Will you please take the nice medicine so I can get some sleep?”

Khan’s irritation melted away at the weariness he heard in his wife’s voice. He’d been damned lucky that Molly had decided to help him escape the late, unlamented Admiral Marcus’ grasp before ‘John Harrison’ had been forced to do something drastic. He’d been even more lucky when she’d agreed to marry him. He lowered his gaze to her distended stomach, pulling his hand from beneath the covers and laying it reverently on the flesh that currently covered their first child. A son. She’d helped him escape and free his Augmented brothers and sisters; she’d helped them steal the _Vengeance_ , she’d stood by him when he killed Marcus when he tried to hold her hostage, she’d agreed to marry him and now she was carrying his baby…while he, Khan, former ruler of a quarter of the world of their mutual birth, was acting like a baby himself.

He opened his mouth and allowed her to pop the spoon between his lips, swallowing obediently and watching as she sighed with relief and stretched to ease her aching back. After depositing the spoon on the nightstand and instructing the computer to lower the lights to their dimmest setting, she crawled back into bed next to him. “I’m sorry, Molly,” he rumbled as he helped her shift into a semi-comfortable position – their son’s imminent birth made true comfort impossible for her at this point in time – and wrapped her in his arms. She was immune to the illness that currently plagued him, for which he was extremely grateful, else he’d find himself sleeping alone for the first time since she’d run away with him.

He’d discovered that he hated sleeping alone. Luckily for him, so did Molly.

“Go to sleep, Khan,” she murmured, more than halfway into the arms of Morpheus herself. Hmm, Morpheus…

“Molly, what do you think of Morpheus as a name?” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“No,” she replied sleepily. “He’s going to be named after his father. Unless his father doesn’t let me go back to sleep. Then he’s going to be named Hamish.”

Khan spoke not another word for the approximately five minutes he remained awake.

He took Molly’s threats very, very seriously.


	20. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 400 followers ficlet. The one word prompt was "desire" by Cumbercookie81. Enjoy this NSFW segment!

“Say it, Molly,” Khan breathed against her neck, brushing the sensitive skin with his lips as he spoke. “Tell me you want me. You know you do, I know you do. Just say it and let yourself go.”

He skimmed his fingers along her bare arms, and Molly shivered with desire but somehow found the will to keep the words locked behind her teeth. “Ah, fighting it, are you?” Khan murmured, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Then perhaps I’ll have to up the ante.” She felt him lower his head, gasping as he ran his tongue along her neck and down along the top of her shoulder. She shuddered as she felt him ease the thin strap of her bra off her shoulder to dangle against her upper arm, and shuddered again as his other hand began slowly, tortuously gliding along the front of her chest until it finally reached her breast, cupping it through the silky material of her bra.

Her uniform dress already lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, alongside her boots and stockings. She was currently clad only in her navy-blue Starfleet-issue knickers and bra, both of which she expected to soon join the rest of her clothing, leaving her entirely bare to her captor’s sight and touch. It was purest insanity to want this, the way Khan already knew she did. Molly gasped as she felt his fingers slide down her abdomen, dipping below the waistband of her knickers to tease the moistened curls of hair covering her sex, slipping into her labia minor and teasing her clit. 

He’d undone her hair, which brushed against the skin of her back and shoulders as he continued to drop soft kisses to her shoulder. His fingers, long and talented, continued to bring sweet torture to her breasts and her cunt, raising goose-bumps and fever to her flesh at the same time.

Desire. She wanted him, oh how she wanted him, but dare she say it aloud? If she remained silent, spoke only in the wordless moans and mewls he was wringing from her as he played her body like a violin, then she could always deny afterwards that she’d allowed this liaison. 

But Khan would have none of that; he ceased his gentle, cajoling ministrations to suddenly grasp her by the upper arms, startling a frightened gasp from Molly’s lips. He hauled her tightly against his naked form, his erection resting like a brand against her buttocks and lower back, and nipped at her shoulder as he growled, “Say it, Molly. Say it, or we go no further. Say it, or else take your uniform and leave.”

His words hung in the air between them for a breathless moment as Molly considered the choice he was giving her. Then, with a shudder of surrender, she shook her head and finally spoke. “I want you.”

Khan gave a low chuckle of triumph as his hands returned to caressing her body. He ground against her and dug his fingertips into her thighs. “How, Molly? How do you want me? Like this, from behind?” He moved his hips, thrusting suggestively against the swell of her buttocks and she bit her lip as moisture pooled between her already damp thighs. “Shall I bend you over, rut against you like an animal, take you in the most primitive way possible? Or shall I lie back and let you ride me like the wild woman I know you are beneath that quiet, demure mask you wear for everyone else?”

“Like this,” Molly gasped out, flushing from forehead to sternum. Khan gave an approving hum, deep in his throat, and pulled her fully onto the bed. She dropped to her knees, resting her head on her folded arms, watching through eyes gone hazy with lust as he positioned himself behind her, nudging her knees further apart in order to make room for his toned form. She moaned at the sight of him fisting his cock, stroking leisurely, then teasing her with its blunt head. 

She bucked back against him, and he gave into the silent, desperate plea of her body, thrusting into her slowly but steadily. His thick, heavy cock stretched her walls, filling her inch by inch until he was completely inside her. She panted a bit, squirming to adjust to his size, then moved her hips again to signal her readiness.

Khan reached down and wrapped her hair around one fist, tugging firmly but not painfully until she turned to meet his gaze. “Silence won’t do, Molly,” he admonished her. “I want to hear you. Tell me what you want me to do, let me know if you’re enjoying this or if something pains you.” He lowered himself over her back, murmuring directly in her ear, “Scream my name when you come, and I promise I’ll do the same for you.”

“Yes, Khan!” she gasped, and he rewarded her by moving his hips, sliding out of her just the smallest bit before thrusting sharply back inside. She moaned, she cried out, she babbled and begged as he increased his pace, holding himself up with one arm, the other hand still holding tight to her hair. It should have been humiliating, painful, but it was instead the most thrilling sexual encounter she’d ever had. Khan wielded his body like a weapon, and proved himself expert at mastering hers. Within minutes she was calling his name worshipfully, and not long after that, he was roaring out hers in triumph.

Desire. He’d scented it on her from the moment they first met, and she’d fought it with everything she had until she finally understood that it was as impossible to resist as the man who lay curled around her in the aftermath of their lovemaking. She felt Khan’s deep, even breaths against her shoulder as he slept, and softly raised one hand to her lips and pressed a worshipful kiss to his knuckles.

Desire could be fleeting; he might not want her after this, but even the prospect that he might discard her, cast her aside, couldn’t wring a single note of regret from her heart.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and slept.

And in the morning, Khan demonstrated that desire was far from sated.


	21. A Very Khanolly Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is for benedictedcumberbatched, who admitted to having a hard time wrapping her brain around the idea of "Khan" and "Christmas" going together. It's rated K for pure fluffiness and I suppose is a part of my "Tango" universe. Daddy!Khan and Mommy!Molly and so much fluff you might die of a sugar overload. Enjoy!

Molly tried her best to stifle her giggles, but it was no use; they burst out of her no matter that she'd stuffed her fingers into her mouth, her entire body rocking with mirth at the sight before her.

Khan glowered at his giggling wife, taking refuge behind stiff haughtiness. "I fail to see the humor in the situation, Molly."

At his words she burst into outright, semi-hysterical laughter, tears leaking from her eyes, arms clutching her mid-section as she rocked back and forth, shaking her head and nearly rolling on the floor in merriment. "Khan," she finally gasped out as she looked up at her husband, wiping the wetness from her cheeks, "how is this NOT funny? You-you're covered in...in...TINSEL!" With the last word she once again fell about with laughter, pointing at his normally-sleek hair, now tousled and ruffled and – yes – covered in silver tinsel.

"He started it," he grumbled, shooting a grumbly look at their four-year-old son. Jamie merely grinned up at his father, entirely unrepentant as well as unfazed by his father's faux anger. He still clutched a handful of silver tinsel in one chubby fist, but the dusting of silver in his unkempt black curls showed that no matter who fired the first shot, both combatants had participated in the war.

"Oh, that's rich," Molly chortled as she climbed back to her feet, helped by her husband's extended hand, however reluctantly he pretended to offer it. She rubbed her belly, where their second child currently rested, barely a bump to outside eyes. "You hear that, sweetie? Daddy's blaming your big brother for his own mess, isn't that naughty of him? I think Santa will be putting coal in his stocking this year if he's not careful!"

"Yeah, Daddy, coal!" Jamie crowed, clapping his hands and giggling loudly, not caring that the tinsel he’d been holding fluttered to the hardwood floor. 

Khan tried to maintain the glower and dignity befitting an Augmented colony leader, but finally allowed the grin he'd been holding back on to curve his lips as Molly reached out and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Yes, fine, it's my mess," he acknowledged, bending to pick up the container he'd accidentally upended over his own head, scooping up a token handful of the tinsel he’d then tossed at his son for daring to laugh at his rare show of klutziness. Which, for the record, had been entirely Molly’s fault; if he hadn’t been watching her bend over to pick up another box of ornaments for the tree, he wouldn’t have tripped over the pile of lights waiting to be strung up over the front door. "I wouldn't want to cross Santa; he's more dangerous when he's angry than I am!"

"Really, Daddy?" Jamie asked, wide-eyed. "How? Is he an Augment too?"

"No," Khan replied, kneeling so that he and his son were at eye level, his voice entirely serious as he placed one large hand on James’ shoulder. "But he does have...reindeer!" The last was said in a whisper, and he darted his eyes around the room as he spoke it, as if worried that someone might be listening.

Jamie considered his father's words for a moment, then cocked his head and nodded, his chubby little face so serious that Molly wanted to scoop him up and kiss him until he giggled and told her to stop. "Reindeers have hooves and antlers," he said. "And they're pretty big." Then he looked into his father's eyes with an adoring gaze and said firmly, "But I bet you could take them if it wasn't for the elves."

Jamie looked puzzled as both parents burst into laughter, Khan's baritone mingling with Molly's tenor in a harmony that their son's higher-pitched tones quickly joined.

He might not have known what they were laughing about, but he knew the sounds of love and happiness when he heard them.


	22. A Very Khanolly Christmas Part 2

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

Khan rolled over with an exaggerated groan. "Yes, Jamie? Is there a problem? Monsters under your bed? An urgent need to urinate? An overwhelming thirst?"

His son ignored his words, clambering onto the bed and landing on his father's stomach with a loud shout of, "No, Daddy, it's Christmas! You said we could open presents when the sun comed up!"

Khan peered over at the window, which barely showed the glow of sunrise, then over at his wife, who was giggling quietly to herself beneath the covers. "What's so funny, Molly, hmmm? Perhaps you'd like to bear the weight of our overzealous offspring?" Jamie was currently bouncing up and down on his father's thighs, hands thumping on Khan's stomach in his impatience to see what Santa had brought.

"No, I bore his weight for nine months, if you recall!" Molly retorted. "Your turn now, Daddy!" Then she rolled out from under the covers, slipping on her dressing gown before reaching for their four-year-old bundle of energy. "Come on, sweetie, Daddy can't get his clothes on til you stop bouncing on him. Why don't we look at your stocking while we wait for him to come downstairs?"

"Okay!" Jamie trilled, allowing his mother to lift him up. He hugged her tightly, then waved to his father as they made their way out of the bedroom. "Bye, Daddy, see you inna parlor!"

With a quiet chuckle, Khan rolled out of bed, courteously waiting until his wife and son had left the room. Molly might enjoy his attentions, but she always disapproved when he neglected to put on night clothes afterward. He understood; it had been hard enough to convince Jamie of the necessity of clothing for a good year after they'd founded their colony.

He pulled on his trousers and a simple grey shirt, then hurried out of the bedroom as he heard Jamie's excited voice squealing and aahing over the treasures in his Christmas stocking.

He'd missed the first two years of his son's life, and he'd be damned if he missed so much as a second of the rest of it.


	23. Fussy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rottenbrainstuff on tumblr asked: I know you are insanely busy and have 1000 things on the go, but I would just DIE for a khanolly drabble, no matter how short, that's nothing but Khan fussing and fretting over a pregnant Molly.

"Honestly, Khan, I’m fine!"

"Are you sure?"

Molly bit back a grin at the sight of her fearsome Augment husband clutching a pillow in both hands, nervously twisting the plush fabric as he contemplated her reclining form. “Yes, I’m sure, Khan. If you try to stuff one more pillow under me, I’ll fall right off the bed!” She reached up and waited for him to lean forward so she could caress his cheek. “We’re both fine,” she said softly, her other hand resting on her enormous mound of a stomach. “Your son and I are very comfortable at the moment. Feel, he’s not even kicking just moving around a bit!”

Khan laid a reverent hand on her stomach, which was, indeed, rippling softly. “He is already strong,” he said softly, eyes glowing with love and pride as he met Molly’s equally loving gaze. “As strong as his mother.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, which she gladly returned.

"And probably right now he’s as tired as his mother," she said, reminding her husband why he was fussing over her at the moment. She leaned back and shut her eyes. "Time for our nap, sweetie," she murmured, this time speaking to her restless son. "Let’s go to sleep, shall we, so he can get back to the serious business of running a colony!"

She felt more than heard her husband’s rumble of laughter as he pressed another kiss to her lips, then listened contentedly as he finally left their bedroom.

It had been a hard year for them all, but things were finally turning around. Their son’s birth was imminent, and both parents were eager for the day they could hold him in their arms.

Life, Molly thought contentedly as she drifted into sleep, was so much better than she could have ever imagined.


	24. Symbiotic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This filthy little foray into a darker Khan than I've written before is a birthday gift for the lovely allthebellsinvenice. Thank you as always to everyone who takes the time to review these little scribblings, and to read and follow and favorite!

She’ll do anything for him, he already knows that. From the moment she first laid eyes on him she was lost and he knows that, too. He coldly uses her growing infatuation with him to manipulate her, and she knows he’s doing it, but she lets him. She is that enthralled by him, that taken by his dark looks and stark features – elegant, she calls them when she is being fanciful, tracing her fingers along his sharp cheekbones, the plump curve of his lips, the shell of his ear.

Ensign Hooper is his plaything, the few nights he allows himself – forces himself – to take a break. Even he has limits, although he is loath to admit it. Their first night together is one of those nights; he is working late in his private lab, forcing himself to finish one last design, when the doors whoosh open in that annoying way all Starfleet doors do, and she steps in. She says nothing, just walks up to him. He is standing in front of his desk, half-turned to see who has dared to invade his privacy, and the only sign of nerves he can see is in the way she nibbles at her bottom lip.

They stare at one another, and he quirks an eyebrow, waiting to hear whatever it is she’s steeled herself to stay. Will she ask him for coffee, invite him to her quarters, pretend she’s here purely for work-related reasons?

No. She surprises him – surprises and delights him – by simply dropping to her knees in front of him, reaching up with steady, delicate hands to undo the fastenings on his uniform trousers. He watches, making no moves to either stop or assist her, a faint smile on his lips as she tugs his cock free, his pants and trousers shoved down only to the tops of his thighs. 

When she takes him into her small, mobile – and incredibly talented – mouth, he hums with pleasure. He doesn’t touch her, not that first time, leaves his hands resting on the edge of the faux-wooden desk, grunting with pleasure as she eventually coaxes a climax out of him.

When he’s finished, after he’s come in her mouth and watched through heavy-lidded eyes as she swallows every drop and licks her lips, she stands back up, carefully tucks him away and redoes his trousers, then turns and walks away. At the door she pauses, turns to meet his gaze and says, “Any time, Commander. Any time you need me, you can have me.” Then she leaves, and he is left standing by his desk, infinitely more relaxed than he was before she entered the room.

He sleeps well that night, a deep, dreamless sleep, and awakens at his usual time, well rested and immediately wondering how she’ll feel when he fucks her. It is not a matter of ‘if’, only ‘when’. Of that much he’s certain.

He finds out a week later, when she approaches him again. This time, however, he touches her, grabbing her arms, pulling her against his body, grinding his cock against her hip and belly as he kisses her, all tongue and demanding nips of his teeth against her mouth. She moans and gasps and he grows harder as he forces her to the floor, flipping up her skirt and ripping her pants off as if they were made of the flimsiest of fabrics rather than sturdy Starfleet-issue synthetics. He undoes his own trousers this time, shoving them impatiently down to the tops of thighs before covering her body with his own. She is soaking wet, her hot little pussy juicy and tight as he shoves his way into her; her heels dig into his buttocks, dragging the dark trousers down past his thighs as she writhes against him. He bites down on her shoulder, sucking hard, drawing a strangled cry from her lips as he reaches between them and thumbs her clit. Minutes later she’s wailing out her orgasm, her body going limp as he continues to move ruthlessly against her; she has achieved her pleasure, but he will not stop until he gains his own.

When he spills inside her he’s already cataloged every twitch of her body, the slick feel of her sweaty flesh beneath his, the beautiful way her face twists when she comes, the marks he’s made on her soft, pale skin.

The next day she surprises him again, this time by deliberately catching his eye in a rare moment of solitude, undoing her uniform blouse just enough to show him that she’s left the bruises he’s given her on her shoulder, her collarbone, the base of her throat. She smiles and redoes the blouse, slipping away just as he catches the sound of others approaching the lab.

He smiles only after he is once more alone, but the brooding anger that seethes beneath his skin, the hatred he feels toward Marcus and the Section and even innocent, unaware Starfleet eases just the smallest bit.

She is something of a mystery to him, but only in how attuned she is to him; everything else he needs to know about her he learns easily enough by hacking into Section 31’s supposedly impenetrable database. Ensign Molly Hooper, age 24, recruited for her brilliant pathology marks at Starfleet Academy’s Medical School. Only child, father deceased, mother living off Earth somewhere, no close friends, never married, no children of her own. She isn’t doing this on Marcus’ behest, either; he’s heard the Admiral reprimanding her the one time he catches her near his private lab, and it is clear by the tension in her shoulders when he marches away that she feels no more love for that cold, selfish man than he does himself.

He tells himself he’s only looking up her information to see how he might be able to use her in future. It isn’t the first lie he’s ever told himself. And as it turns out, it won’t be the last.

Over the next few weeks they continue their dalliance, and it frustrates and intrigues him how well she seems to understand him, or at least his needs. She always seems to be able to tell when he is need of some downtime.

He smirks at the phrasing his mind has chosen. Downtime, indeed. He looks at the woman kneeling between his legs, her mouth working his cock, and knots his fingers into her waves of chestnut hair. She takes him in deeper, working him into her throat, and he can remain still no longer. He thrusts into her mouth, arrogant with the knowledge that she can take it, that she might be sore when he’s finished with her, but that it’s how she likes it. Quiet, unobtrusive little Ensign Molly Hooper is the most uninhibited lover he’s ever had, in this century or in his own. She might not possess the stamina of an Augment, but damn if she doesn’t come close.

Another smirk. He’s not actually close to coming, not unless he chooses to be, and he’s still debating on whether he wants to empty his load down her willing throat or whether he wants to bend her over his desk, take her from behind. Sink his cock into her hot pussy or deep, deep within her sweet little ass. So many options. All, he decides after a moment, not giving her any warning as he loosens his control and shoots hot cum down her throat. First this, then her ass, then her pussy, that hot little cunt he loves to taste.

She swallows his load and pulls her head back only after he releases his grip on her hair. Her eyes are watering, but there is a satisfied smile on her lips when she looks up at him. “Up,” he growls, reaching down and grasping her by the hair once more. She moves swiftly; pain is not her favorite form of pleasure, although she does not demur when he needs to work out his frustrations on her willing body. 

He drags her over to his workbench. The desk is too high, and he has no desire to put her up on any form of a pedestal, neither literally nor figuratively. She is just another tool, a consolation prize as he is forced to do Admiral Marcus’ bidding. As soon as he and his captive family are reunited, whether here on Earth or elsewhere, he will discard her.

So he tells himself, even as he bends her over the workbench, meeting those expressive, chocolate-brown eyes when she glances over her shoulder. Her smile and dark and knowing, and he fights the urge to smile back at her. She might not know his true name, but she knows he is more than simply ‘Commander John Harrison’. 

Perhaps, he thinks as he roughly pulls her legs apart, making room for his larger form between her thighs, one day he will tell her who he is. Will that be enough to make her cringe, to flee him, to finally fear him the way she should?

No, he thinks as he brushes his fingers against the wet curls guarding the entrance to her cunt. Not his Molly. “My name is Khan,” he says gruffly as he slips two fingers into her, thrusting deep inside, experience telling him exactly where her g-spot is located. He curls the fingers and she gasps, bucking her hips upwards.

“I know,” she moans. “Khan Noonien Singh. A-admiral Marcus thinks, ungh! He thinks h-his precious paper files are safe, but m-my dad was a safecracker, old school, taught me – oh, God! – taught me how…” She trails off into incoherence as Khan works her faster, bringing her to the edge but not allowing her to fall apart. Not just yet.

He pulls his fingers out in spite of her whimpers of protest, bringing them to his lips and sucking as he drops to his knees behind her. “Widen your stance,” he commands, and she moves her legs obediently. He grasps the soft globes of her ass, kneading the flesh with his fingers, pinching lightly before snaking his tongue along the wet slit of her pussy. He drags his tongue up to her tight little rosebud, flattening his tongue along the smaller opening while she moans and gasps and wiggles her bottom in pleasure. 

He digs his fingers into her ass and she squeals and jumps a bit at the unexpected pain, but he continues to work the flat of his tongue from her ass to her pussy and soon she is moaning and gasping again. When he thrusts his tongue deep inside her, working her clit with his thumb, the moans build into grunts and the gasps become harsh, panting breaths. He tastes it when she comes, eagerly laps up the flooding moisture, then pulls himself to his feet while her legs wobble and she collapses against the workbench, her chest heaving as she fights to regain her composure.

He gives her no time to recover; although only minutes have passed since his first orgasm, he is fully hard and ready to fuck her as mercilessly as they both like. He abandons his original plan, although her ass is so very, very tempting. Instead, he thrusts into her cunt and she gives a small scream of pleasure, lifting her torso and begging wordlessly for him to fondle her tits. They’re small, but they fit so well in his hands, are so incredibly sensitive, that he has no complaints. He pinches her nipples, tugging at the hard little nubs until she gives another small scream, her cunt pulsing around his cock as she orgasms for a second time.

He takes his time with her, torturing her, teasing her, bringing her to the edge over and over again until she is sobbing, begging him to let her go. “Please Khan, please, let me come again, God, I want to come with you inside me, please fuck me harder, please!”

He relents, but only when he sees the tears streaming down her cheeks. He reaches down and slides his fingertip across her clit, leaving it there as he increases the movements of his hips, slapping their flesh together until she comes again, sobbing out his name over and over as shudders ripple over her petite frame. Once she falls limp he digs his hands into her hips and pounds into her, working out his stress and frustrations with his situation on her willing body. He bends over, wrapping one arm around her waist as he sucks a series of dark red marks into the back of her neck. His other arm is resting against hers, and at some point he entwines their fingers. She squeezes his hand and he comes, roaring out her name as his hot cum fills her, overflowing, dribbling down their legs.

“My quarters after your duty shifts from now on,” he growls as he pulls out of her, tugging her up and lowering his head to hers for a possessive kiss. “I need more of you, Molly. And I know you need more of me.”

She nods, toying with the dark fringe of hair that has fallen over his forehead from their mutual exertions. “Anything you need, Khan,” she says. “Anything at all.”

There is a slight emphasis on the second repetition of the word ‘anything’, and he takes a moment to parse her meaning. When he understands what she is offering, he smiles at her, his first sincere, warm smile to another living being since waking up in this strange new world. “I just might take you up on that, Ensign,” he replies, then gives in to the urge to kiss her again.

He is still using her, he tells himself when they fall asleep in his quarters that night, after another very satisfying bout of fucking.

But once again, he knows he is lying to himself.


	25. Hot Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khan and Molly get up to some sexy shenanigans in a hotel sauna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For benedictedcumberbatched, congrats on landing that job in the posh hotel!

“This is all your fault!”

“My fault? How is this MY fault? I’m not the Galaxy’s Most Wanted Criminal, YOU are! I’m just your poor hostage!”

Khan looked over at Molly incredulously. “Hostage?” he hissed. “If I recall correctly – and I have perfect recall, which you damned well know – YOU released ME from that cyrotube and demanded my help in finding your father!”

She scowled up at him, not one whit intimidated by his larger size or the fact that he could crush her head like a melon with his Augmented strength, should the whim take him. He secretly enjoyed that about the renegade Section 31 agent; she reminded him a bit of Jim Kirk, although with much nicer legs and big brown eyes that did things to him he wasn’t ready to let her know about. “Well, it’s still your fault Starfleet caught wind of us,” she said, jutting her chin out defiantly. “I told you it would take more than just curling your hair to disguise you!”

He caught himself about to tug at the offending locks out of sheer frustration. They were currently holed up in one of the posh hotel’s saunas, and the steam was doing as much to undo his admittedly weak attempt at disguise as it was to dampen their casual clothing and shorten both their tempers. Why else were the two of them bickering like a pair of sleep-deprived toddlers?

Certainly it wasn’t because he secretly enjoyed bickering with her, the way her eyes lit up when she scored off him, or the smug little smile that played about her lips when she managed to shut him up for a moment. And it certainly had nothing to do with any sort of sexual attraction to her; he was Khan Noonien Singh, former ruler of a quarter of the world, dammit, not some love-sick teenager on a first date!

He deliberately turned his back on her, discreetly adjusting his trousers as he realized his traitorous body was reacting to her proximity in the close quarters. Or possibly due to the steam wafting through the room. They were in the smallest of the four saunas this hotel boasted, the one meant for one or two people at most, and they were crowded together near the door, trying to avoid the sizzling stones set in the middle. He risked a look out the small, portal-shaped window, smiling in grim satisfaction as the security officers who’d almost spotted the two of them exited the recreation area. 

“I think it’s safe for us…to…leave,” he said, the words trailing off as he turned and saw that she’d stripped off her dress and shoes and now stood completely naked in front of him. “Molly? What are you doing?”

“What I should have done from the moment I first defrosted you,” she said frankly, running her fingers up his chest before curling them into the damp hair at the nape of his neck. She looked up and smiled at him. “Letting you seduce me.” Then she tip-toed up and pressed her lips against his, and the battle Khan had been fighting with his libido for the past six weeks was finally lost.

He crushed her to him, tongue demanding entrance to her mouth, arrogantly thrusting it against hers as she tugged his tight blue shirt free of his trousers. He pulled away only long enough to yank it over his head, tossing it to the floor before sitting on the wooden bench lining three-quarters of the round room, pulling Molly down with him. She undid his trousers as he kicked off his boots, and when they were both naked, she straddled his lap, running her fingers up his chest. She ground against him lightly, and he groaned in response, reaching around to knead her sweet little arse in both hands.

“If you’ve wanted to do this since you awoke me, why wait till now?” he gasped as she moved her hips in a sensuous movement that brought his already-hard cock to full attention.

“Because you’re smug and arrogant enough as it is,” she said, before dipping her tongue into his ear and licking a path from there to his lips. The kiss was deep, languorous, and leisurely. When it ended, she picked up exactly where she’d left off, although her breathing was much more ragged than it had been. “You expect every woman you meet to just fall into your arms and your bed, and I knew if I wanted you to respect me at all, to help me, then I couldn’t do that. No matter how much I wanted to.”

“Hmm, yes, I see your point,” he replied, then gasped as she squeezed his cock in her hand.

“Yes, and I see yours,” she murmured wickedly. Her thumb grazed his tip and he finally admitted that he’d wanted her just as long as she’d wanted him. Thank God for ham-handed Starfleet security types, or else they’d never have ducked into this hot, sweaty little space to hide in the first place. Clearly it had given her ideas. Ideas he very much approved of.

He leaned forward and licked the tip of her right breast, very slowly, very deliberately, then did the same to the other. He squeezed them together and caught both nipples in his mouth, nipping and suckling while Molly writhed against him and made the most delightful whimpering noises. He laid her down on the bench and raised himself above her. “Want you,” he rasped, sliding his cock along her slit.

“Yeah, I got that,” she gasped back, holding tightly to his forearms and wrapping one leg around his waist in an attempt to yank him closer. “So fuck me already, will you?”

That was all the invitation he needed; with a groan of relief he plunged into her. She was so wet and ready for him that no foreplay was needed, although next time he was determined to taste her. She sighed and rolled her hips up to meet his movements, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as they shared a series of sloppy, urgent kisses. The first press of her lips against his throat had him gasping like a teenager getting his first hand-job, and he felt a moment’s fleeting regret that any marks she might place on his body would fade and vanish almost as soon as he finished fucking her.

The sweat dripped from their joined bodies; even his superior physiology couldn’t entirely withstand the heat of two people fucking in a sauna, and he quickly wiped his brow as his recently-acquired curly fringe flopped into his eyes. Molly giggled, then gasped as he twisted his hips in a manner designed to remind her that neither Khan nor sex were laughing matters.

Judging by the way her fingers dug into his biceps and the surging of her pelvis against his – not to mention the immediate cessation of the giggle – his point was taken.

Heh. Yes, indeed, she was taking his ‘point’ quite beautifully. He certainly hoped to drive it home again and again, and not just here in this sauna! The heat the two of them could generate, he suspected, would be more than enough to steam up whatever room they next christened.

With that in mind, he began pumping into her harder, faster, doing everything she was urging him to do, her voice so sweet in his ear as she gasped and moaned his name between filthy demands. He had a few filthy ideas of his own and couldn’t wait to explore them. Back in their luxurious hotel suite, which they’d taken under their cover names of ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith’. Unoriginal in his time, true, still a cliché, but as an alias it had fallen out of favor not long after his own fall from grace.

Speaking of falling…he watched, entranced, as Molly’s face twisted, her eyes squeezed shut and her lips forming a perfect ‘O’ of pleasure as she reached the precipice to which he’d been so relentlessly driving her. He continued to watch as she fell apart beneath him, her sweet body tensing beneath his, her hot little pussy squeezing his cock as tremor after tremor shook her petite frame. When she finished he resumed his movements, pounding hard as he chased his own completion, his lips and teeth sucking owning marks at the base of her throat, fingers tangled in her cinnamon tresses, damp with sweat and condensation.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him as he panted and shuddered above her, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder and neck until he finally forced himself to pull himself up and off her. They couldn’t stay here much longer; not only would it cause the sensors to signal a possible health alert to the rec floor’s staff, but Molly certainly would need a nice cool shower to bring her body temperature back to normal. His, of course, was already on its way. Maybe, he mused as they hurriedly redressed themselves, he could talk her into allowing him to find a way to use his blood to improve her purely human physiology.

Then she smiled at him, and all thoughts of future endeavors melted away. For now, just being with her was all he needed. He smiled back, and took her hand. Together, they strolled out of the sauna and over to the bank of turbolifts, and from there back to their room.

By the time they left Rysa, they’d christened their own suite, several semi-public places (including the Starfleet brig the one time they were caught, and before they escaped), and eventually the stolen transport they used to make their way to the world where Molly’s father was being held prisoner.

For the sake of the older man’s heart, they refrained from celebrating in a carnal manner once they rescued him.


	26. Irresistible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You couldn’t care less why I did what I did, not right now. Right now,” Commander Harrison repeated, voice lowering and piercing blue eyes never leaving hers, “all you want is for there to be no barrier between us.”

He was, hands down, the single most gorgeous man Molly had ever laid eyes on. The hairs on the back of her necks and arms rose in response to the sheer magnetism of his presence when they first locked eyes in the corridor of the Enterprise. He’d been bound, manacled with heavy-duty clamps meant for prisoners of exceptional strength, and the slight smile he’d given her when she stared at him told her he knew exactly where her thoughts were tending.

And now he was locked in a holding cell, clad in Starfleet-issue black trousers and undershirt, clinging to his form like a second skin. Clinging to him the way she longed to do so. Madness, it was pure madness what she was contemplating; the man was a murderer, a terrorist, and yet she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Getting in to see him was easy; convincing the guards to leave impossible with mere words. Luckily they were called away on an emergency; she promised to remain in the brig until their replacements could arrive, and then they were alone, Ensign Molly Hooper and Commander John Harrison, medic and prisoner, staring at each other through transparent aluminum. “That was inspired,” he said approvingly as she stood, mesmerized, mere feet away from him.

“Wh-what was?” she squeaked, hating the stutter and uncertainty in her voice. God, she was a Starfleet officer, what the hell was wrong with her?

He nodded toward the doors, securely locked behind her. “Rigging up a fake emergency call to get rid of those buffoons, and presumably delaying the arrival of their replacements with some other ‘emergency’. Quite inspired.” He moved a step closer to the barrier, raising one hand and resting it against the clear metal. “And all just to get me alone, Ensign.” He quirked an eyebrow and raised his lips in a small, cold smile. “How...romantic.”

She shook her head and tried to back away; instead, her feet brought her helplessly forward, until she stood as close to the barrier as she could. “It’s not…I just wanted to, to talk to you, to ask you why…”

“No you didn’t,” he interrupted, contradicting her. Sniffing out the lies with confidence. “You couldn’t care less why I did what I did, not right now. Right now,” he repeated, voice lowering and piercing blue eyes never leaving hers, “all you want is for there to be no barrier between us.”

“I…” she fell silent, unable to formulate a single coherent thought as he held her with the sheer strength of his overwhelming personality. “This isn’t a breakout,” she said once she could gather her scrambled thoughts together. “I’m not helping you escape. I just…”

“If I wanted to escape, Ensign, trust me, this cell couldn’t begin to hold me.” And she believed him. “So why not simply do what we both want? Open the door and let me join you.”

Against all reason, ignoring the voice in the back of her mind screaming at her that this was the worst idea she’d ever had, Molly Hooper keyed in the code that raised the barrier, allowing a dangerous criminal the freedom to do exactly as he liked.

Fortunately for her, that involved bending her over the control console, hiking her uniform skirt up over her hips, and ruthlessly finger-fucking her into her fastest orgasm ever. While she was still gasping and shuddering through the after-shocks, he raised his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, then leaned over her and ground his rock-hard cock against her ass. “So, Ensign Hooper, shall we begin?”

Later she’d wonder how he’d known her name, but at the moment all she could do was moan and open her legs wider, giving tacit permission for him to do whatever he wanted to her. Her panties were torn from her body as if made of tissue paper and quickly stuffed up one of his sleeves. She heard him undoing the fastenings to his trousers and nearly came again just from the sheer eroticism of the sound. Then his cock, heavy and hard, was between her legs, held in one large hand as he rubbed it against her slick folds. “So wet and ready for me, Ensign, panting for me to fill your sweet little cunt,” he purred against her ear as he bent his lean form over hers. “Is this what you want, what you’ve wanted since first laying eyes on me?”

She responded with a whimper that turned to a gasp as he reached up and rubbed his hand over her breasts. Even through the combined layers of uniform and brassiere she could feel the heat of his touch, and her nipples instantly hardened. Then his mouth was on her neck, nipping sharply; she cried out and in that moment of distraction, he thrust into her. Oh God he was huge, stretching her out, filling her like no other man ever had; Molly’s fingers scrabbled for purchase on the edges of the console, low moans escaped her lips, and pure animal instinct had her pushing back against him even before she’d fully adjusted to the size of him.

He was ruthless in his movements, hips rutting against hers with short, sharp thrusts, fingers relentless on her nipples, his mouth hot on her neck. Molly knew she was better than this, but she couldn’t make herself stop any more than she could reverse a supernova. Her entire universe narrowed to just this moment: the man sweating and grunting above her, the feel of his shaft deep inside her dripping sex, the hard plas-steel surface beneath her body, the sighs and squeals escaping her lips as she chased her climax.

As soon as her walls clenched around his cock he increased his movements, riding her through the spasms that shook her body until he let loose a guttural, triumphant roar and spilled his seed inside her.

Not a word was spoken as he did up his trousers and straightened his shirt. Molly was too shaken, too stunned by what had just happened, and who knew what Commander Harrison was thinking? But when she looked around for her knickers, his lips curled in a slow, sensual smile as he pulled the tiny scrap of fabric out of the cuff of his shirt. “There’s a small lav, you can clean up there,” he said, his voice calm and steady. Molly nodded her thanks and tottered off to the small room, where she washed and wiped and did her best not to look like a woman who’d just been royally shagged.

When she returned to the main room, panic blossomed until her darting eyes found him back in his cell, the barrier still down as he lounged on one of the benches. He held out an imperious hand, and Molly, after fighting an inner battle, walked over to him and took it. He traced the inside of her wrist with his palm, then tugged her down in order to press a demanding kiss to her lips. “Don’t worry, Ensign,” he said softly as he released her, allowed her to once again regain her feet. “No one will ever know.”

“I will,” she said softly. “I’ll never forget.” Then she turned and exited the cell, making sure to raise the transparent aluminum barrier before steeling herself to wait for the guards to return.

Hours later, when Commander Harrison – Khan Noonien Singh, as his identity had been revealed to be – had successfully managed to get his seventy-two companions to safety on the stolen warship _Vengeance_ and the _Enterprise_ remained helpless, she received an anonymous message on the comm in her quarters, instructing her to gather her personal possessions and place them into her carry-bag. Mystified, she did so; as soon as she sealed it shut, she felt herself caught up in the humming energy of a transporter beam. When consciousness returned, she found herself on the stark grey-and-black bridge of a starship, Khan sitting arrogantly in the center chair. His lips curled up in a satisfied smile, and he barked out an order to the computer. She felt the ship hum into maximum warp, and allowed a tentative smile of her own to show.

It wasn’t the future she’d had mapped out for herself when she joined Starfleet, but whatever adventures she might have shared with her fellow shipmates paled in comparison to the dark promises within Khan’s shimmering blue eyes. Helpless to resist, she moved toward him as he reached for her, and her kiss was a promise never to leave him.


	27. Labor and Delivery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the marvelous sherlolly29 as noted on the drawing.

Even though Khan had slept for three hundred years and awoken to a future filled with both marvels and horrors, he was still more surprised by the things that remained the same than by the things that had changed.

Childbirth, for instance. Unless there was a pressing medical need, most human women still insisted on going through the agony of ‘natural labor’ instead of sensibly using the superior painkillers now available to them. Even the ones with zero chance of causing any sort of harm to the baby or interfering with labor.

Madness. Utter madness. Had the Augments remained in charge the way they were meant to be, things would be vastly different now.

Instead, here he was, the former ruler of three-quarters of the world, reduced to bystander as his wife suffered through yet another contraction, all in the name of experiencing ‘natural childbirth.’

“It’s not too late, Molly,” he said, resting one arm on her shoulder as she relaxed at the end of the contraction. “Doctor Watson can give you something for the pain…”

“NO!” she practically shouted, glaring up at him. “I won’t give up now, not after fourteen hours of this! Don’t let him bully you into giving me something, either,” she added, turning her glare on Khan’s trusted friend and Chief Medical Officer.

The corners of John’s eyes crinkled as he gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Molly, I only listen to the wishes of the mother in these circumstances.”

“Fine,” Khan ground out through clenched teeth. “But next time…”

“If you don’t shut up and let me do what I want now, there won’t BE any next time!” Molly snarled. Khan held her glare, matching it with his own until his expression melted into one of fond exasperation.

He was about to praise her for her ongoing efforts when another contraction struck. She grabbed his hand and squeezed, so tightly that he was certain a non-Augment would have required a bone-knitter to repair the damage. He broke out into a sweat as Molly gasped out the need to push, panic bubbling at the corners of his mind. This was happening, he was about to become a father for the first time, and suddenly he wasn’t ready.

Too late; minutes later Joachim Singh-Hooper was born, squalling at the top of his lungs, red-faced and outraged. Molly was laughing and crying at the same time as she reached for him with trembling arms; John carefully laid the slimy little bundle on her breast, and she gazed at him with wide, wondering eyes. “He’s beautiful,” she whispered, once again groping for Khan’s hand.

He reached down and gently rested his fingers on the boy’s matted black hair. “As beautiful as his mother,” he praised, feeling his heart fill with love for them both.


	28. Khanolly Cannoli Canoodling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bakery stop and some light-hearted fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the photo below, posted by holybatch over on tumblr. (The story title is the header for my khanolly side blog.)

“Ooh, cannoli! I love cannoli! Let’s buy some!”

Khan smiled indulgently at his wife. “Of course, Molly, anything you want.”

She looked up at him with a smirk. “Even if I get as big as a shuttlecraft?”

He rested a hand over her distended abdomen, an even wider smirk on his lips. “Too late for that, my love.”

Molly’s eyes widened in mock outrage. “Oh, you!” She slapped his arm, fighting back a grin. “That’s a fine thing to say to a pregnant woman!”

He pretended to measure her midsection with hands outstretched, thumbs together forming a frame, backing up several steps, frowning, then backing up a few more steps before nodding in satisfaction. “No, seems about right to me.”

When Molly pouted, folded her arms across her chest and turned her back on him - but with an amused twinkle in her eyes - he moved back to her side, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders and squeezing gently. “Now, Molly, don’t get into a strop. If our son is craving cannoli, then cannoli he shall have.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head before adding rather devilishly, “Even if his mother becomes as big as a Constitution class starship!”

The other patrons of the bakery watched with amusement as the tall, muscular man was laughingly chased out the door by his petite, heavily pregnant wife - but only after they’d paused to purchase a half-dozen of the cream filled treats!


	29. In Comparison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous on tumblr asked: Khanolly prompt: Molly is feeling insecure comparing herself to other augments, and wonders to herself how Khan could possibly love someone as ordinary as her.

They were tall, muscular, and gorgeous, every single Augment, all seventy-two of them. They were frighteningly intelligent, dangerous and alluring, sexy and arrogant, deeply loving and loyal.

In short, very much like their leader.

The problem was, she wasn’t one of them and never would be.

Molly Hooper smiled and greeted the men and women she and Khan had rescued, smuggled off Earth and awakened on their ‘liberated’ starship. She’d answered their questions and explained their current situation to them at Khan’s direction, assigned them quarters and explained how to access the ship’s database so they could absorb even more about the new universe to which they’d awoken.

After they’d all been taken care of, she sighed and stretched before resting her elbows on the desk and scrubbing tiredly at her eyes. She couldn’t help but compare herself to the elegant, lissome women who had each greeted Khan with a warm kiss. True, none of the kisses were lingering, none of them seemed like kisses shared between past lovers; also true, that the women greeted the other men in the same way, but Molly couldn’t help the spasm of jealousy she felt as Khan returned those kisses. Why would he want _her_ , now that _they_ were once again available to him?

A pair of long, elegant hands on her shoulders startled her, but she forced herself to relax as Khan pulled her against the lean hardness of his chest. “Stop it, Molly,” he said, his voice a deep rumble she felt from head to toe. “I’ve already told you, I value you as much as I value them.”

“I’m weak and breakable compared to them - compared to you,” she amended sadly. “The only advantage I have over any of them is my knowledge of how things work in this century. It took you less than a month to get up to speed so Marcus could put you to work on building his war machines.” She gestured widely, taking in the entirety of the ship Khan now commanded. “Once they’ve caught up, the only thing I’ll be good for is reminding them why they’re superior.”

Khan turned her gently in his arms, frowning as he studied her. “What’s really wrong, Molly?” he asked. “You’re not usually so negative about anything, even what you falsely perceive as your faults.”

She tried to turn her head, but he grasped her chin in his hand and gently but firmly tilted her head up. “Tell me,” he ordered her.

She let out a shaky breath. “I’m frightened,” she confessed in a low voice. “Khan, if you only…if you’re only with me to make sure I helped you get your crew - your family - to safety…if you’re going to s-send me away or k-kill me now that we’ve accomplished that goal…please, just don’t wait. Just do it now and get it over with. Please.”

His answer was a soft, loving kiss as he pulled her closer to him. “Molly, you sacrificed your career and your future just to save me and mine. What sort of a cold-blooded monster would I be, were I to turn on you now? And no, I’m not with you out of something as simple as gratitude. I told you I love you, and trust me, I don’t use those words lightly. I love you, Molly Hooper. Not just for now, not just for what you’ve done for me, but for yourself, for who you are. No one will ever come between us, I give you my word on that. Do you believe me?”

She sighed and nodded, her heart finally at peace. “I do,” she assured him.

His lips curved in a smile as he lifted her in his arms and began carrying her toward their private quarters. “Good,” he said. “And keep those two words in mind.” She gave him an inquisitive look, and his grin turned feral and possessive. “Because the next time I hear you say them, it will be at our wedding.”


	30. Hello Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khan has infiltrated the _Enterprise_ for one specific reason, and her name is Molly Hooper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T. Artwork provided by the wonderful aswellingneutral from tumblr (aswellingneutral.tumblr.com). Thank you so much!

“Hello again, Lt. Hooper. I do hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

Molly gasped and turned her head at the sound of that familiar voice, grasping the wrist of the arm that snaked around her waist, pulling her close to the lean, hard body she hadn’t felt since Commander John Harrison had become a wanted terrorist.

She opened her mouth to scream but his free hand shot out like a striking cobra to cover her nose and mouth. Whispering in her ear as she struggled against his suffocating hold, he said, “Sorry, Molly, but that’s not in the plans I have for us.” His grip tightened and she fell swiftly into unconsciousness.

When Molly awoke she found herself on a strange ship, definitely not the _Enterprise_ from which she’d been abducted. She remembered everything, including the shiver of desire that had made its way up her spine when John’s lips tickled against her ear. Even knowing who he was, what he’d done, hadn’t dampened her desire for him, much to her dismay.

He’d always given off a dangerous vibe; co-workers at the Weapon’s Design facility where they’d both worked had warned her away from him even if they had no specific reasons as to why she should.

Well, now she knew. He was a murderer and a terrorist and had kidnapped her from the _Enterprise_...why had he done that? She wasn’t important enough to be useful as a hostage, and he’d clearly infiltrated the crew and wasn’t in imminent danger of being captured when he’d stolen her away. So why?

She asked him that very question when he appeared by her side only seconds later, as if summoned by her bewildered thoughts. He reached out and laid one hand carressingly across her cheek. “Oh, Molly, isn’t it obvious? Once I knew you were on board Kirk’s ship, I had to bring you away with me. You and the rest of my crew, my family. Because that’s what you are to me now. Family. My lover if you’ll let me and my wife if you’ll have me.” His voice deepened. “Mother of my children.”

“You’re a wanted criminal,” she whispered, leaning helplessly into his touch, eyes fluttering shut as her heart warred with her mind.

“Not only that, but I’m also not who Admiral Marcus forced me to be,” he replied. Her eyes flew open and up to meet his in confusion. Her confusion only grew as he gave her a succinct summary of his true identity and reasons for doing what he’d done. “I can’t say I’m entirely displeased with being awoken by Marcus,” he concluded, leaning forward to press a slow, seductive kiss to her lips. A kiss she found herself returning in spite of her intentions otherwise.

When the kiss ended he breathed against her lips, “Otherwise I’d never have met you.”

Then Khan, as she now knew him to be, took her in his arms and kissed her again. Molly cursed herself for a weak-willed fool, but returned both embrace and kisses fervently. If he was damned then she was damned right along with him...and could think of no other place that she’d rather be.


	31. Clothing Maketh Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coat completed the package, and what a package it was! Shameless PWP, Khanolly-style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to mellovesall, whose reblog of the post featuring the picture below and her tags inspired this little smutty ficlet!

 

****

Sure, he was tall, dark, and dangerous. Sure he exuded menace like no one else. Sure his cheekbones could cut and his eyes smouldered like a banked fire; his hair was a sleek, dark mass she longed to run her fingers through; his lean, rangy form was well-muscled and eminently jumpable.

But if she was completely honest with herself, the overall package wouldn’t have been nearly so devastating if it wasn’t for the coat. Yes, the tight black leather trousers and soft cowl-necked jumper were dead sexy but the coat completed the package.

The moment their eyes met, she knew that he knew exactly what she was thinking. And when they ended up together in a sleazy rent-by-the-hour spaceport hotel, the door was barely shut behind them before his hands and mouth were all over her willing form.

Once they’d stripped down naked, however, he’d shown exactly how observant he’d been: his eyes never leaving hers, Khan slowly drew his coat back on over his naked form, then simply stood there, smirking, while Molly sucked in a breath at the sight. “Well, Ensign?” he purred as he stood in front of the bed. “Shall we begin?”

If he hadn’t allowed her to, she’d never have been able to budge him so much as an inch, let alone shove him down so that he lay spread out on the bed before her devouring gaze. His well-muscled torso utterly hairless, but with a thick black blaze between his thighs from which his more-than-adequate erection proudly jutted. He said nothing as she took in the gorgeous sight of him, so pale against the dark leather of his coat, and Molly bit her lip in anticipation as she climbed up onto the bed and clambered over his supine form.

“Not yet,” he said as she made to lower herself over his jutting erection. She paused and gave him a questioning look; with a slow, dangerous smile he raised his arms above his head and gestured her upwards. A swipe of his tongue over his parted lips was all the explanation she needed; she quickly moved so that she was kneeling over his mouth, her hands on the padded headboard.

Before she could lower herself he’d moved with lightning-swiftness to bring her pussy down to his face. She gasped at the feel of his lips on her already-dripping sex, his tongue penetrating ruthlessly, one thumb sliding up to caress her clit. 

Molly threw her head back and moaned, not caring if the thin walls of the cheap motel carried the sounds to the next room - or if they carried them to every room in the place, for that matter. Khan’s mouth moved with expert ease over her sex, licking, nipping, and eventually tongue-fucking her while maintaining a tight grip on her thighs with his hands. 

She came with a near scream of ecstasy while he continued to plunder her with his tongue, not stopping even when she thought she couldn’t bear another second. Incredibly, he brought her to a second peak before allowing her to collapse on the bed next to him, catching her breath and staring blankly at the ceiling.

He remained on his back, turning only his head to watch while she recovered from his ministrations, one hand lightly running down her body in languorous strokes, shoulder to thigh and back up again. When her heart and breathing finally slowed to something approaching normal, she turned on her side, leaning closer, inviting him to kiss her.

He kissed like a storm, demanding and consuming, pulling her on top of his hard form. She felt the insistent nudge of his erection against her belly, and when she finally pulled away for lack of breath, his lazy smile and challenging gaze speaking his thoughts as loudly as words: was she up to more?

The answer, of course, was yes. She rose slowly to her knees, keeping her eyes on his as she swung one leg over his thighs so that she once again knelt above him. His hands returned to their position above his head, a deceptively submissive pose for so dominant a man. She reached for his erection, gliding her hand up and down its hard, silky length, still watching him for any sign of losing control. When he grunted a bit and flicked his eyes open and closed again almost too fast for her to see, she smiled. Finally, a sign other than his obvious arousal that he was as impatient as she was to feel their bodies joined.

She rose up, pressed the head of his cock against her sex, and began the sweet torture of easing him into her. He was big enough for it to be a stretch, but not so big as cause any actual pain, especially not with her vagina so nicely lubed by his oral attention.

Her eyes fluttered shut once he was fully seated inside her, and she simply sat there for a few seconds, enjoying the feel of him. Then his hips twitched upward, her eyes flew open, and she gasped as his hands finally moved to grasp her hips. “Ride me,” he rasped, and as they exploded into motion. Molly leaned forward as she did as he’d commanded, taking his mouth in a hard kiss, tongues tangling and teeth nipping while their bodies moved together in an urgent synchrony. She reached for the smooth mass of his hair, discovered that his fringe fell nearly to his chin when she tugged it forward, giddy at the sound of the low growl he made when she raked her fingernails over his scalp.

Her own hair had long since escaped the elastic holding it away from her face, and she let out a harsh gasp when he suddenly reached up and tugged on it, dragging her face back down to his for another simmering kiss. His movements became harder, more demanding, and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders in order to steady herself against the punishing rhythm he’d set. 

He released her hair and grabbed her ass, helping keep her in place as he impossibly increased his pace. All she could do was hold on for dear life and ride out the storm she’d ignited. A storm that quickly developed into a hurricane of pleasure as another orgasm swept over her, as unexpected and overpowering as the second one he’d given her. Shortly after she’d screamed out her pleasure, she felt him pulsing deep inside her, letting loose with a guttural, triumphant roar as he came.

Sometime during the night she awoke, feeling chilled, to discover that he’d left the bed. Left her, as she’d known he would; the man was a hunted criminal, after all. Her heart ached at the thought of him facing whatever the fates had in store for him with no one to stand by his side, but even if he’d asked her to join him, she couldn’t say for sure that she’d have agreed. No, it was better this way; a night of mind-blowing sex, a stealthy departure in the early hours of the pre-dawn morning, and no regrets allowed. As she reached for the covers that had tangled around her feet, however, her questing fingers felt something unexpected, and she pulled it up, instantly recognizing it by feel alone, but confirming her suspicions by holding it to her face, inhaling deeply of the leather, smelling his sweat and the pong of sex.

With a faint, wistful smile, Molly Hooper wrapped herself in Khan’s coat, and dreamt of the man who’d worn it. 


	32. Give Me Daughters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> irisang asked: Hello, a khanolly prompt just pops up in my head. 'an AU where Khan is the supreme ruler of the world and his empress Molly is worrying that she keeps giving birth to daughters. (I'm thinking maybe they have 5-8 girls or more.) But Khan is perfectly fine with that.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm recycling the title from a Sherlolly story, but it fit so well I couldn't think of a better one. Enjoy, and thanks as always for your lovely words of encouragement, they mean the world to me!

“It’s another girl. Oh, Khan, why won’t you let the Royal Geneticist do his job? We’ve had five girls already…”

“And you love them, yes?” he husband interrupted her, his voice warm and calm, in utter contrast to her own fretting.

“Yes, of course I do!” she exclaimed. “I love them all, you know I do!”

“As do I,” he replied, taking her into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to the top of her head. “All of them, and this newest baby as well. What do you think of Alanna as a name for her?”

Molly looked up at him. Her husband, supreme ruler of the world, father of her five - soon to be six - daughters, first amongst Augments, most alpha of alpha males. “But, don’t you want a son?”

He shrugged. “I suppose a son would be nice. Someone for our girls to fuss over till he’s old enough to hate it. But believe it or not, I much prefer to continue to leave things to chance. Besides, I thought you said six was it? Or have you changed your mind?”

Molly threw her arms around him and kissed him as best she could considering the size of her six-months-gone belly. “I love you, you know that?”

Khan smirked down at her. “I had an inkling when you threw yourself at me during my Coronation Ball, yes.” His teasing tone vanished as he laid a loving hand on her stomach. “But I knew it for sure when you were willing to have not only one child with me, but as many as we both desired. And if they are all girls, so what? They are each and every one of them proof of our love for one another.”

Molly kissed him again, her irrational fears eradicated by the iron-clad sincerity of his words.  


“We’ll see how I feel about it after little Alanna here is born,” she said as she stroked the back of his head. “After all, seven is supposed to be a lucky number!”


	33. Bazooka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One word prompt from likingthistoomuch: bazooka - khanolly :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when you can't sleep and need something to pass the time.

Molly looked at the small rectangular packet doubtfully. “I don’t know about this, Khan.”

Her husband huffed out an annoyed breath. “Do you know what I had to go through to get this? They haven’t manufactured it in over two hundred years, not on this planet! So please, Molly, will you just…try it?”

“All right,” she said, still sounding less than convinced even as she tore open the paper packaging. “But I still don’t understand the point of chewing gum – or why they’d name it after a weapon!”


	34. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khan tells Molly farewell, for her own good. The trouble is, she's not ready to say it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kendrapendragon prompt: Khanolly, Farewell

“No.”

Khan stopped in mid-turn, staring incredulously over his shoulder. “What?”

“You heard me.” The petite woman in Starfleet blue with her arms folded across her chest scowled at him. “I said ‘no’. I’m not letting you just leave me here.”

Khan took a breath before responding. Although he admired her stubbornness ( _courage,_ part of his mind whispered, _not stubbornness_ ) he couldn’t allow her to sacrifice her life and career just for his sake. “Molly,” he growled, his voice at its most commanding, “You have no choice. We’ve made our farewells, you’ll just have to accept it.”

“No, actually, I don’t.” Molly gave a sharp nod, her eyes straying over his shoulder. Too late he turned, only to find his second-in-command, Joachim, and his wife Mara close behind him. He only had time to give an incredulous shout before Joachim had his arms trapped behind his back and Mara was pressing a hypospray against his neck.

“There you go, Doctor Hooper,” he heard dimly as he fell into unconsciousness. “Once he wakes up, we’ll all be safely out of Federation space, and he’ll have no choice but to accept that you’re coming with us.”

It took him over a month to forgive the three of them for their actions, but once he did, he never referred to it again.

Well, except in private, with Molly, when he would lovingly call her his little pirate.


	35. Opulence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From an anon prompt on tumblr.

The opulence of his palace – and make no mistake, it was a palace, no other word could possibly do – was mind-blowing, to say the least. “Um, wow,” Molly murmured as she stared up at the multitude of crystal chandeliers depending from the arched dome of the ceiling.

“I presume that means you’re impressed.” Khan’s voice was filled with amusement, and Molly couldn’t help bristling a bit. She hated being laughed at.

“I know I’m just a, a normal, boring human, Khan, but that doesn’t give you the right to…”

“Molly Hooper,” he interrupted her, striding across the length of the room so quickly she had no time to do more than squeak out a protest before he had taken her in his arms, “you are not a normal, boring _anything_ to me. Why do you think I had this built? As a monument to my own ego? No,” he denied, lifting her chin in two fingers and tilting her face up to meet his. “I had it built to honor you, the woman who captured my heart as well as my respect. I had it built,” his voice lowered to a deep thrum that set Molly’s insides a-quiver, “for you, my queen.”

He lowered his head and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. One that Molly Hooper, former Starfleet Intelligence officer and now wife to Khan Noonien Sing, was more than happy to return.


	36. Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous from tumblr asked: khanolly if you please. with #9 (Things you said when I was crying)

“Khan? Are you all right?”

He brushes the tears away impatiently, turns to face her with a smile plastered to his face that she immediately knows is false. “Oh Khan,” she says softly as she walks up to him, placing her small hand over his heart. “You know you don’t have to, to fake anything for me.”

“I do,” he admits, covering that small hand with his own. He turns back to the viewport, to the world they’d hoped to call their own. The world that has turned out yet again to be unsuitable. “But I had such high hopes, Molly, to bring you somewhere safe, somewhere where our child could be born, rather than this endless journeying through space.”

She smiles up at him, cups his cheek with her free hand, and his eyes flutter shut at the gentleness of her touch. How he earned such love, such trust from the woman he virtually kidnapped, he will never know. Another tear slides from beneath his eyelid, but this time he doesn’t try to stop it. “I love you, Khan,” she whispers, leaning her head against his chest. He enfolds her in his arms, pulling her as close as her burgeoning belly will allow.

“I love you too, wife,” he says, just as quietly. Their child kicks, as if to punctuate their words, and he and Molly exchange smiles. “Thank you.”

He leans down and kisses her, and she kisses him back. This time she’s the one to wipe away his tears. “The next one,” she says when the kiss ends. Her face, her eyes, her voice, her very being are all filled with the quiet determination that is her most dominant feature. “The next one will be the right one. Our son will be born at the site of our new colony.”

Two months later that prediction is borne out, and William Hooper-Singh makes his debut as the sun rises over their new home.

 


	37. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She cries, and he hates it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went a wee bit dark with this one, but hey, it’s khanolly so dark works, right? So yeah, here’s the requisite dubcon warning. Totally explicit.

She’s crying again, quietly, but of course he hears her; how could he not, when he’s virtually wrapped around her body in his bed? Technically it’s ‘their’ bed but he knows she doesn’t think of it that way. Not yet. Perhaps not ever, but he won’t let himself consider any outcome except the one he most ardently desires.

“You belong to me now, Molly, so there’s no use spending your tears wishing for things to be different,” he murmurs against her ear. “We’ve left Earth and the Federation far behind us. They’ll be far too busy with the war Marcus engineered to bother chasing after one stolen starship.” He strokes his hand down her side and breathes in the scent of her shampoo.

“A war you made sure would happen by attacking the Klingons after you kidnapped me,” she says bitterly, but he can feel the protest easing from her body; her words may be bitter, but they’re purely perfunctory. And at least her tears have finally stopped. He doesn’t allow himself to ask why he cares whether or not she cries; she’s a prize of war, after all.

Still, he does, and he thinks it’s more her knowledge that he cares, in his own way, than it is the sex that keeps her from completely hating him. He presses his nose to the side of her neck, just above the dark purple mark he sucked into the tender flesh less than an hour ago. “Why did you do that, Khan?” she asks. “If you hated Marcus that much, why go to such lengths to start the war he wanted?”

“As a distraction,” he replies, pulling her closer to his body, letting her feel the stirrings of arousal as he strokes his hand over her breasts. They are still tender, he’s sure, after the attention he gave them with hands and lips and teeth, so he keeps his touch gentle. For now. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Ensign Molly Hooper in the two weeks he’s had her on his ship and in his bed, it’s that she isn’t nearly as timid as she thinks she is. Certainly not when it comes to sex; oh no, his little lab mouse, abducted from the very facility where he was first awoken, is a tigress once he works past her initial protests.

“A distraction? From what?” she asks, her voice little more than a murmur now as he strokes one hand down her abdomen and cups her sex. His nuzzling has started to become nipping and his fingers stroke between her legs with a growing impatience; one thing he’s learned about Starfleeters is that they do love to talk when action is called for.

“A distraction to allow us to leave Federation space and find our own world to conquer,” he says, his voice a low growl. He nips at her earlobe and she lets out a small yelp, but he can feel the growing wetness between her legs and the way she presses back against him and smiles against her flesh. “Besides, the Admiral was so adamant that war was inevitable that I could hardly disappoint him.”

“You didn’t want to disappoint the man whose skull you crushed with your bare hands?” Molly says sarcastically, but he can smell the desire rising from her body, can feel the moisture pooling beneath his questing fingers, can sense how the attraction she feels for him - which she insists on fighting - is only enhanced by her recitation of his dark deeds. It’s why he decided to keep her, to take her with him when he and his fellow Augments fled; there is a dark side to this quiet little woman, deny it though she tries, and it calls out to him. 

Just as his own dark nature calls out to her. “Enough,” he growls, flipping her onto her back and covering her naked body with his own. “Marcus is dead, and don’t shed any tears for him, Molly. He deserved to die and you know my reasons.” He smothers any further protests by lowering his mouth to claim hers in a brutal kiss. A kiss, he notes with no small sense of satisfaction, she is just as eager to return. “Marcus,” he says, punctuating each word with more kisses, “is. Dead. You. Are. MINE.”

He presses her down harder, takes himself in hand and places the very tip of his cock against her opening. “And you know it,” he breathes against her throat, thrusting into her and biting down hard as he does so.

She cries out, but her hands are on his shoulders, her nails are digging into his flesh and she’s bucking her hips upward, meeting his every downward thrust with an eager movement of her own. He groans against her throat when she wraps her legs around his hips, her heels digging into his buttocks, and groans even louder when she bites his shoulder. Her bitemark won’t last on his flesh with its superior healing qualities, but he loves her desire to mark him just as he marks her every time they’re alone in their quarters.

He tangles his hands in her hair, taking in fistfuls of the cinnamon-colored tresses, pulling her head back so he can kiss her again. He nips at her lips, careful not to draw blood, although she is hardly so concerned with his well-being. Not that she should be; she knows how little damage she can do to him even at the wildest heights of passion, which they are both rapidly approaching. Her breath is coming in gasping pants; sweat drenches her body, and when he reaches down and slides his finger between their bodies, reaching down to rub his thumb over her engorged clit, she screams his name and goes rigid beneath him. He waits out her climax before he begins moving again, thrusting harder and harder against her willing body, feeling her moving beneath him again, the rapid beat of her heart almost louder than her gasping breaths. When he comes he does so with a primal, triumphant roar; he is the male, he has pleased his female and given her his seed, and all is right with the universe.

“Our children will be magnificent,” he murmurs when they have settled back in bed to sleep for the remainder of the night. 

“Children?” The word is so quiet an ordinary human might not have heard it, even in such close proximity, but of course he does.

“Children,” he repeats firmly. “As many as you’re willing to bear me.”

“Children.” This time the word comes not out of shock but a sort of contemplative daze, as if it’s something she’s never considered before – or, most likely, not with him as the father.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he tells her, entrusting her with this one decision. It seems only fair, not only because it’s her body but because he’s taken so many other decisions away from her. Conscious decisions, anyway; he’s always known they belong with one another, and that she’ll come to that same realization sooner rather than later.

Prize of war she may be, but he knows it won’t be very long before she realizes that he’s as much her prisoner as she is his.

That day, he very much looks forward to seeing.


	38. Whither Thou Goest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally have a moment to write you! If the AU prompts, I would LOVE to see this one done ““i’ve been travelling a lot and somehow you’re in every single city i go to seriously what the fuck who even are you how are you doing this” au”…Khanolly; for some reason I see Molly being the one that shows up at every city, but as you wish. Same for rating, I’m open. Thanks! :D  
> @sinnerwoman86

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T and slightly tweaked. Enjoy!

She was there, in Paris. The same woman, he was sure of it, even without having to resort to his eidetic memory to confirm it. The same woman he’d seen in London, in Rome, and in Boise.

A Section agent, then, but not one who bothered with anything as mundane as a disguise, at least nothing beyond a change of clothes and hairstyles. That sure of herself, was she? That unworried about him making her? Marcus and his lackeys were either getting careless or far too certain of themselves.

If not for the fact that he’d spotted her reflection in a window in Boise, he’d never have noticed her in Rome. Big brown eyes, long, cinnamon-colored hair, classic English Rose complexion...all very much his weakness when it came to looks. Perhaps he was meant to see her, then? Did they want him to ‘seduce’ her, become distracted by her enough to...to what? Blurt something out about his plans in post-coital bliss? He’d never be so careless with his tongue, and Marcus had already learned how quickly he metabolized the various drugs they’d tried on him to make him talk.

Perhaps she was simply meant to lure him into a trap, although if they were already trailing him, then all they needed to do was transport him to another secure facility like the one from which he’d escaped. No, it was much more likely she was just there to keep an eye on him, wait for him to do whatever it was he’d escaped to do, and then call in reinforcements before he could cause too much damage.

Hah. As if any of the Section 31 minions could stop him if damage was his goal. No, he had far greater ambitions than merely wreaking havoc in the name of vengeance for his lost brothers and sisters. If Marcus thought revenge was all he sought, he was in for very unpleasant surprise.

But first, his tail. He studied her as she stood in front of the  _Mona Lisa_  in the Louvre, staring at the ancient portrait with the rapt attention of a true art aficionado - or a very clever actress playing the part of one. He waited until she moved away into one of the less populated rooms before he confronted her. “I thought Section agents were better trained than you appear to be,” he said as he stood directly behind her, his voice pitched low enough that no one else in the room could hear him.

He saw a slight shiver go over her form as she continued to study the painting in front of which she’d stopped. “Or maybe I wanted you to see me,” she replied, her lips barely moving.

“And why would you do something like that?” he asked, his breath stirring the hairs that had come loose from her simple pony-tail. Yes, definitely a shiver that time; he deliberately moved closer, almost but not quite touching her. He sensed the attention of another patron on them, but allowed her to make the call.

“Darling,” she said in a loud voice, “do stop teasing me and let me enjoy this wonderful painting. We can go back to our hotel after this one, I promise!” Then she turned and ran a flirtatious finger down his arm, tilting her face up to meet his with a seductive smile on her lips.

“But of course,” he said in his deepest, darkest voice. The velvety purr literally raised goosebumps on her exposed forearms; interesting. Very, very interesting. He leaned closer as if to steal a kiss, turning his head at the last second to breathe in her ear: “The Hôtel de Crillon. Room 1730 in half an hour.” Raising his voice once again he added, “I guess I’ll go find the gift shop. Meet me there.” Then he did kiss her, quickly but firmly before turning and walking out of the room. He gave a brief nod to the man who’d clearly started off concerned about a woman being possibly stalked, but was now smiling at the sight of two young lovers enjoying the museum.

A half-hour later she was there, joining him in his luxurious hotel suite, leaning against the door and studying him. “I know who you are,” she said without preamble. “What’s more, I know what you’re doing and I want to help.”

He raised an eyebrow at that bold statement. “Really.”

She nodded. “Yes, really.” Her expression was fierce. “Admiral Marcus...what he did to you, to your crew...it was unconscionable. You’d be well within your rights to do the same to him - well, not wake him from cryosleep after 300 years in order to force him to build warships, of course. But kill him. I know you must have thought about it.”

He nodded, actually impressed by her, not to mention somewhat amused by her jumbled rush of words. “You’d turn on your superior, help me seek that vengeance - why?”

“Oh no,” she denied, shaking her head vigorously. “I would never betray Starfleet or the Federation.” Interestingly enough, she said nothing about the Section. “And if you actually were out to kill the Admiral, I’d be duty-bound to stop you, even if I do understand why you’d want to do so. But that’s not what you’re doing.”

“And what, Agent - to whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” he interrupted himself to ask as he moved closer to her.

“Agent Hooper. Molly Hooper,” she replied, never taking her eyes from his even after she had to crane her neck to look up at him as he stopped only a few feet away. “Lieutenant Hooper is my actual rank, if you want to know. You can look me up,” she added, nodding in the direction of the antique wardrobe that discreetly housed the room’s comlink and computer interface. “I know you can infiltrate the Section’s computers, that you’ve done it before.”

He tilted his head, considering the persona she presented. Was it all a front, or was this the real Molly Hooper he was seeing? Hard to tell...or rather, it would be if he were just an ordinary human. With just the two of them, alone, he could practically smell the sincerity of her words, could see and interpret every nuance of every microexpression. “So what is that you think I’m doing, Lieutenant Hooper?” he asked, genuinely curious to see how much she knew - or thought she knew.

“You’re searching out the places where other Augments were hidden away, seeing if those hiding places have been compromised,” she replied immediately - and correctly. “You’re trying to find out if the ones you were forced to leave behind when you left Earth at the end of the 21st century are still alive and undiscovered.”

“And yet you haven’t reported my actual activities to your superiors. In spite of the fact that I could be plotting to take over the world, to rule it as I once did.”

“You only ruled a quarter of the world,” she corrected him with a crooked smile. “Which you already know. And no, I don’t think you want to rule any part of the world. Certainly it would be more difficult to do with the Federation and Starfleet and of course Section 31. No, you don’t want to rule the world, Khan - you want to leave it.”

“Very true. Leave it far behind, and take my people with me. Had Marcus known there were Augments on Earth this entire time...your precious Federation might already be at war with the Klingons.”

“Somehow I doubt that any of them have nearly the military acumen - genius - that you have,” she said, then moved deliberately closer to him. “So. Are you going to kill me, Khan? Or are you going to let me help you, take the chance that I’m exactly who I say I am?”

“The latter, of course,” he replied, pulling her into his arms. “But not tonight.” He smiled, reaching over to tug her hair free of its restraints. “Tonight, I have other plans for the two of us.”

He kissed her, enjoying her instant response. She still might be out to betray him, but until the moment of ultimate truth, he would enjoy everything she had to offer him.

 


	39. Effects of Omega Pheromones On Alien Ecosystems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Prompt (for when you feel like writing something): Khan and Molly are exploring an uncharted planet, and Molly's pheromones are making both flora and fauna react. Khan will have to do something about that.

“All right, I have had ENOUGH!”

Molly whipped her head around at the sound of Khan’s aggravated roar. “What’s wrong?”

He stared at her. “What’s wrong? How can you not know what’s wrong, woman?”

The little Omega frowned and thumped her fists on her hips, glowering at him just as fiercely as he was glowering at her. “If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn’t be asking, would I? No, I wouldn’t!” she exclaimed, answering her own question and stamping her booted foot on the ground. “So instead of acting like I’m a mind reader instead of just a member of your crew - a normal, ordinary HUMAN member, by the way - why don’t you please just TELL me?”

With a growl he grabbed her both arms and yanked her close, ignoring her startled squeak as he pressed her against his chest and lowered his head to sniff hungrily at her throat. She’d automatically tilted her own head to the side, billions of years of evolution almost impossible to overcome when an Alpha was acting particularly dominant, even if her Heats were currently being chemically suppressed.

He groaned as he took in the rich, sweet scent she was giving off; if she smelled this good - if her pheromones were this powerful when she was on suppressants - what the hell would it be like once she actually DID go into Heat? And dared he even let her do so on the _Vengeance_? With a shipload of other Alphas, most of them Unbonded?

“Khan?”

Her sweet voice, so uncertain, brought him back to himself. “Molly, you aren’t even on the cusp of Heat right now and your pheromones are so powerful you’re sending every form of wildlife around you into a frenzy, myself included,” he growled, gesturing around them.

Eyes wide, she took in the sight of the plants giving out veritable streams of pollen, the way every insect buzzing and humming nearby was actually pairs mating in mid-flight or while clinging to greenery, the way the screeching calls of the birds and tree-climbing small mammals had given way to chitters and grunts that spoke of animal passion in the most literal sense. She looked down at her tricorder as if she needed technological confirmation of the unexpected phenomenon, then blushed a deep red. “Oh,” she said softly. “Um, sorry.”

Khan frowned; he could smell her shame, and that was not at all the emotion he’d been meaning to evoke. He’d been fighting his attraction to her ever since first meeting her on the _Enterprise_ ; now that she was a willing part of his crew he’d been finding it harder and harder to resist her. And not just the fact that she was an Omega ripe for breeding; no, it was as much her sharp (albeit strictly unAugmented) intellect, her unwillingness to be intimidated by the Augmented members of his crew…and especially her willingness to tell him when she thought he was wrong.

“No,” he said, his voice a deep rumble as he stepped closer to her. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I think you’re out of control, Molly, it’s just that…” He took a deep breath; admitting to being in the wrong was exceedingly difficult for him, but the way she was looking at him, with those big brown eyes, made it a bit easier. “I want you,” he said frankly, and before she could object or put herself down, he explained to her exactly why. “So it’s not just biology, Molly, I can promise you that. The only question is, will you have me?”

Her eyes lit up; she dropped the tricorder to the ground and threw her arms around him. “Oh, Khan, I thought you didn’t want me, I’m just an ordinary human, after all!”

“No, Molly Hooper, if there is one thing you are not, it’s ‘ordinary’,” he replied as he lowered his head, claiming her lips in a satisfying, long overdue kiss.

He pulled out his communicator as the kiss ended, holding Molly with one arm as he flipped the small device open. “Khan to _Vengeance_.”

“Vengeance _here, my lord_ ,” the voice of his second-in-command came through. “ _What do you require?_ ”

“A tent, enough supplies for a week, a sonic repellent field, and complete privacy for me and my Omega,” he replied, giving Molly his most smouldering smile. She sighed and laid her head on his chest as Joachim confirmed that Khan’s will would be done.

“And now, my Omega,” Khan purred as he dropped the communicator next to her tricorder, “shall we see how long it takes before you enter a full Heat?”

“Oh lord, yes,” Molly breathed, then her mouth was on his and her body was molded to his and Khan was breathing in the scent of his mate as her pheromones fairly exploded from her pores.

A week later, when they were ready to transport back to the _Vengeance_ , every living creature that strayed within a hundred-foot radius of their camp had exploded into a mating frenzy the likes of which the planet had never before seen.

Nine months later Molly, his bonded mate, now proudly bearing his Mark on her throat, gave birth to the first of their seven children. And Khan couldn’t have been prouder or more filled with love if he tried.


	40. A Walk In The Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompt: “you crouched down to coo at my baby but i forgot to tell you their favorite thing to do is to play with people’s hair and now they won’t let go of you” Khanolly, with Khan as the single dad. (any rating)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lordy, I tried for cracky and light and this is what happened instead. Apologies in advance for the dark bits!

"Oh my, he, um certainly has a strong grip!”

The young woman who’d crouched down to coo at Joachim in his pushcart now looked up at Khan, a dazzling smile on her lips. He found himself smiling back at her, in spite of his usual dislike of random strangers doting on his nine-month-old son. It wasn’t because the boy’s mother was dead; he’d borne no love for the woman who’d impregnated herself with his seed, seed she’d extracted from his unconscious form eighteen months prior.

No, it was just that he was an intensely private person, and that sense of privacy extended to his son. It had taken him almost four months to rescue Joachim from the woman who’d given birth to him - and subsequently died at his own hands when she tried to gun both father and son down. She’d been a fellow Augment, one who’d gone mad, and putting her down had been both a necessity and a mercy. 

This stranger, however, was a simple human woman, clearly one who had no idea who either he or his son were, which was exactly as it should be. Khan had gone to great lengths to create the alternate persona of ‘John Harrison’ just so he could go out in public unaccosted - and all for the sake of his son. Joachim would rule in his father’s place one day, and he needed to know as much about his future kingdom as he could from a very early age.

Thus their current stroll about one of London’s larger parks - and their encounter with the young woman still gingerly trying to extract her hair - brown and falling to the middle of her back - from Joachim’s little fist. “Yes, he does,” Khan said with a fond smile as he peeled his son’s fingers gently away from their prize. 

“And he has your eyes and lips, he’ll be quite the heartbreaker when he’s older…oh, sorry!” Her eyes, already large and brown, went comically wide and a becoming blush suffused her cheeks. “I wasn’t trying to flirt, I promise, I don’t just flirt with random strangers, I really just…I love babies,” she finished in a confused rush as she stood up and started to back away. “I, um, I’ll just be, um, going now.”

“Don’t.” She started and met his gaze again, her eyes once again going wide at whatever expression she was reading on his face. “I’m John,” he said, then gestured down at Joachim. “This is Joe. We’d enjoy your company if you’d care to join us for the rest of our stroll.” Then he did something his inner voice tried to chastise him for: he waggled his left hand at her, showing her his ringless third finger. “Not married, not mourning. So flirting…is acceptable.”

Her smile lit up her entire face, and they spent a very pleasant half-hour chatting about her work (pathologist at the prestigious St. Bartholomew’s Hospital), her love of children, Joachim, anything he could think of that wouldn’t give him away. He’d never felt so…comfortable…with anyone before, human or Augment, and her easy, open manner did a great deal to dissipate his lingering distrust of women caused by Joachim’s biological mother.

Six months later, when he named her his Queen, watching as she proudly held Joachim in her arms and calmly faced down her doubters, he knew his instincts had been correct: Molly Hooper was the right woman for him, and a magnificent mother to Joachim - and the many, many siblings they soon gave the young prince.

 


	41. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She ran, but he found her. What now?

She ran. Of course she ran; how could she not? Once Starfleet knew about her secret, her now-permanent connection to the terrorist John Harrison – whom she now knew to be genetic Augment Khan Noonien Singh from Earth’s Second Dark Age – they would imprison her, take her child from her, keep them separated while they studied the infant for signs of madness or genetic anomalies…

Molly knew she was verging on hysteria as she piloted the commandeered warp-capable shuttle out of Earth orbit, but she couldn’t help it. Her entire life – the world she’d thought she’d known so well – had come crashing down around her ears, and there was no one she could trust, no one she could turn to for help. Her secret work for Section 31 had isolated her from the mainstream parts of Starfleet, from her friends and family, and she was terrified of their reactions if she did reach out to them.

So she ran, fleeing not only for herself, but for the fragile new life growing within her womb, determined never to let anyone know who her child’s father had been; even if that knowledge didn’t evoke revulsion or suspicion, it would certainly make her an object of pity or ridicule, and she couldn’t live her life that way.

In spite of her fears, she couldn’t bring herself to entirely abandon Federation space, and she was no traitor to flee to Klingon or Romulan space, or any other hostile territory. Although she briefly considered taking refuge on a planet in neutral territory, she ultimately decided against it: not safe enough from those same enemies of the Federation, especially the ones prone to aggressive territorial expansion. Thankfully her skills as a trained Section agent meant that she had covered her trail so well that it would take someone with Khan’s level of genius to find her.

A year later, as she opened the door to her small home and stared at the man standing on her front doorstep wearing a severe black uniform and a grim expression on his face, all she could think was, _I should have known he’d find me._

Khan didn’t wait for permission to enter, simply stepped past her into the small foyer, which seemed even smaller, dwarfed by his overwhelming force of personality as well by his physical presence. He left it to her to close the door, to follow silently in his wake as he marched through the sitting room and up the stairs. He paused in front of the only closed door, his hand on the knob, for a long moment. “Boy or girl?”

“Girl. Her name is Danica Andhakaar Holmes.”

His shoulders twitched. “You named our child ‘Morning Star Into Darkness’?” He didn’t ask about the last name, but since he’d tracked them here, Molly presumed he already knew she was using that surname for the two of them. According to her altered bio, she was the widowed wife of one William S. Holmes, who had died on the Reichenbach colony six months ago.

She didn’t reply to Khan’s question, just watched and waited until he finally turned the handle and opened the door. She followed Khan into the room, stood by the door and watched him as he gazed down at their three-month-old daughter. Danica was still sleeping, but Molly knew she’d be waking up soon, ready for a feeding and a nappy change.

“She’s perfect.”

“Yes.” And she was, too. No matter what the circumstances of her conception, Danica was perfect.

She had her father’s dark hair and Cupid’s bow lips, with her mother’s nose and ears. Her eyes were currently blue, but could go either way: brown like Molly’s or blue-green like Khan’s.

“I didn’t know the truth, when we were together. Marcus had false memories implanted in my mind.” Khan didn’t look at her as he spoke, his eyes still on their sleeping daughter. “I truly thought I was John Harrison, and I know you were just as ignorant of my true identity as I was.”

“I was. And I…I believe you,” Molly said. She moved a few steps closer. “But I don’t _know_ you, Khan. I only knew who I _thought_ you were. And then…those terrible things that you did after your memories came back…”

“No.” He turned, finally, to look at her as he corrected her statement. “Not immediately after they returned. Only after I was made to believe that my crew – my family – had been killed.” He held her gaze as he added softly, “And you, Molly. Marcus told me you were dead as well, that you’d perished when the USS _Carmichael_ was destroyed by the Orions.”

“I was never on the _Carmichael_ ,” Molly said with a frustrated shake of her head. “The Admiral pulled me from the duty roster at the last minute and had me temporarily assigned to a Section research facility on Mars. We were under complete communications blackout the entire two weeks I was there. I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone where I was, not even my mother – or you,” she added. “And then when I came back to Earth…”

“I’d already tried my best to not only kill Marcus but to utterly annihilate him,” Khan said, matter-of-factly. “He’s dead now, by the way. I did finally manage to kill him.”

“Why are you here?” Molly asked, although she knew the answer. She’d walked up and now stood at his side, gazing down at their sleeping daughter. “If you’ve come to take her away from me, I promise I won’t give her up without a fight.”

His low rumble of laughter was not the reaction she’d expected. However, when she glared at him, expecting some sort of contemptuous statement that she’d be unable to stop him, he surprised and disconcerted her by reaching out to cup her face in one hand. “I didn’t just come to see our child, Molly,” he said, a small smile curling his lips. “I came for you as well. I know I’m not the man you fell in love with, and I know I’ve done terrible, possibly unforgivable things both now and during my reign three hundred years ago – but I would very much like to bring you and Danica back home with me.”

“Home?” Molly whispered, desperately wishing his words had no effect on her, that her heart wasn’t racing in her chest or that her entire body wasn’t trembling with a combination of fear and hope.

“Home,” he repeated, leaning his forehead against hers. “A colony outside of Federation space, safe, a place where our daughter can grow up without fear that someone will try to use her as I was once used. A home with me for both of you, if you’ll have me.”

“And if I say no?”

Danica gave a small whimper; without asking, Khan reached down and gently scooped her up, holding her carefully in those large, elegant hands of his, studying her as she yawned and stretched and sleepily opened her eyes. “Perfect,” he breathed again. His eyes riveted to the tiny form nestled in his hands, he said, “Then I would beg you to reconsider. And if you continued to say no, I would ask that you at least allow me to be a part of her life.”

“And if I still said no?”

He looked at her, and she had to fight not to shiver at the coldness in his eyes. “Then I would walk away and never see either of you again.” His expression softened. “But I don’t think that’s what you want, Molly.”

No. It wasn’t. Even knowing the terrible things Khan had done, she’d felt no fear at the sight of him on her doorstep. No fear for herself or her daughter. “All right,” she found herself saying before she could stop to consider it further. “We’ll come with you.”

The relief in his eyes was palpable, and before she knew it he’d transferred Danica to his shoulder, cradling her with one hand while he reached out with the other and pulled Molly closer. Then his lips covered hers, and as her eyes fluttered shut she felt a cautious hope rising in her chest – a hope for her daughter’s future that she hadn’t felt for her before.


	42. I Won't Beg (He TOTALLY Begs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> irisang on tumblr said: Khanolly prompt, 23, things you said when you almost make me beg! Angsty (and maybe smutty) khanolly. Do you think that’s possible?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also a prompt fill for a tumblr anon who wondered if there were any fics where Khan is blown away by Molly's skills in bed. Enjoy!

“Molly, please, just…please!”

“Please what, Khan?”

He paused before responding, wetting his lips and staring up at her. He’d allowed her to cuff him to the sturdy duranium posts that made up the four corners of the oversized captain’s bed, and from that unusual position of vulnerability he’d discovered something very interesting about himself: he liked it. However, that didn’t mean he wanted to admit it to his sexual partner, the woman he’d kidnapped and taken aboard the Vengeance to act as his crew’s physician once he’d forced her to help awaken them.

“You said ‘please’,” Molly reminded him, looking down at him patiently. How had he ever thought this woman ordinary or even (he gave an internal shudder at his own shortsightedness) mousy? He’d wooed her at first out of amusement and boredom, only to discover that the pliant tool he thought he’d brought on board his stolen starship had a core of duranium even stronger than the posts he was currently manacled to. “I’m waiting, Khan.” Her lips curved in a sweet smile that sent a shiver of anticipation up his spine. “And I think you’ve realized just how patient I can be.”

She ground herself against him, but very lightly, and his hips jolted upward in search of more friction. By the seven hells, he’d never allowed any woman to tease and torment him like this!

He wet his lips again, gazing up at her adoringly. “Please fuck me,” he said, his voice hoarse with frustrated desire. “Please Molly. Don’t make me…”

“Don’t make you what, Khan?” she asked, once again moving lightly against him, her wet core setting his cock afire with lust.

“Don’t make me beg,” he whispered, but his eyes were pleading with her and finally - finally! - she relented. Leaning down to curl her hand behind his neck, she kissed him. He felt her lift her body up, and then - ahhhhhh! Slide her hot little pussy around him, impaling herself on his ready length.

She rode him hard, swirling her hips and scratching her nails down his chest, pinching his nipples and rewarding him with a hard kiss whenever he whimpered. He longed for the freedom to touch her, to grasp her hips, to roll her beneath him while he pounded into her, but this had been the only thing she’d ever asked of him in the nine months she’d been his captive, and he refused to beg to be freed.

No, he thought in the delirium and delight of the moment, he’d never beg to be free of her…and as her orgasm pulsed through her body, setting his off in its wake, he realized that he was as much her captive as she was his.

And it was…glorious.


	43. Bartered Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To bring peace to a war-torn late 21st century Earth, Molly Hooper is to marry the leader of the Augments, Khan Noonien Singh. But why has he singled her out to wed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon prompt from tumblr for Arranged Marriage Khanolly

_Molly_

“Dad, this is – this is _crazy_ , you know that, right?”

Molly Hooper, only daughter of the UK Regional Governor stared at Matthew Hooper in desperation. How could he be suggesting this, her own father? And why would the other leaders agree to it, least of all Khan Noonien Singh? The man ruled over Asia and most of eastern Europe. Worse, he wasn’t even fully human, a genetic Augment who was rumored to have murdered his own creators when he and others of his kind took power a decade earlier

“I’m sorry, Molly,” her father said, looking at her with a mixture of sadness and implacability that told her more than words that he was set on this course. Nothing she could do or say would change his mind about it, and although she wanted to scream and rage against the unfairness of it all, she swallowed it all down and bowed her head. She’d always been a dutiful child, and if her father and the other leaders believed this would bring an end to the maelstrom of war and broken treaties in which they’d all been helplessly whirling since before her birth, then so be it.

Two months later found her at the altar, praying to God that she would be the last sacrifice ever made to war. The truce that had been put into place as soon as her father agreed to the marriage had lasted throughout the betrothal, and the treaties would be signed as soon as the vows were exchanged.

She still had yet to meet her husband-to-be in person. She’d seen vids of course, had studied his methods and (possible) madness in her role as military analyst, but none of that could possibly have prepared her for the jolt she felt as he strode arrogantly into the small chapel. It had been her only request: that the ceremony be witnessed only by friends and family, in the church where she’d said her prayers as a child, and surprisingly, he’d agreed.

She watched, barely breathing, as he moved down the aisle toward her. That had been his demand; that SHE be the one waiting for HIM, rather than the other way round as was traditional. She’d seethed with anger at the arrogance of the man, but had to concede that she might not have been able to make the walk down the aisle if she had to watch him the entire time. Her knees were trembling, and her hands as she clutched the small bouquet of daisies and yellow roses. She’d opted for a full-lengh gown that (she hoped) made her look taller and more willowy, with daisies woven through her painstakingly curled hair rather than a veil.

Khan approached her, much like a panther stalking its prey. He was wearing all black: a black Sherwani with gold buttons, tight black trousers and military-styled boots that rose to his knees. It was a blend of Eastern and Western clothing that proudly declared his mixed heritage, and set off his aristocratic features and lean, well-muscled body to perfection.

“Breathe, Molly, we can’t have you fainting,” she heard her Maid-of-Honour, her best friend Meena Patel, whisper in her ear. She nodded without looking, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as Khan joined them at the altar. She barely noticed his Best Man, his enigmatic second-in-command known only as Joachim, taking his place by the groom’s side. No, her eyes were only for him.

He met her gaze boldly, and she blushed as she saw his lips curve in a small smile. “We are well matched,” he said as he reached for her hand. Without thinking she handed her bouquet - shoved it, more like - to Meena and accepted his grasp. His hands were large but elegant, and her trembling increased when he lifted her knuckles to his lips and caressed them with a lingering kiss. “I know you have…concerns,” he said, speaking in a low rumble that sent a thrill up Molly’s spine. “But you have my word, Molly Hooper, that this wedding is no ploy. You will be my wife and rule by my side and finally there will be a lasting peace.”

“O-okay,” was all she managed to say as the minister cleared his throat in a suggestive manner. She tried to turn her attention to him but before she could Khan swooped down and pressed a hard kiss to her lips.

“A true marriage,” he whispered. “Make no mistake about that.” Then he smiled, and his harsh features were transformed into something almost angelic. “And our children will be… magnificent.”

All Molly could do was nod as Khan finally allowed the ceremony to commence.

Suddenly the future didn’t seem nearly so bleak.

_Khan_

Her name first came to his attention as an analyst working for the UK Regional Ministry of Defense. Her name was significant only because she was the daughter of the Regional Governor; interesting, something to file away, but ultimately of no consequence.

She next came to his attention when her analyses of his strategies not only accurately predicted his next move – an attempted take-over of a stubborn enclave of humans clinging to territory in the Middle East – but enabled the EU general to counter it…then, he took notice.

He called up everything there was to know about her. Only child, mother deceased, top of her class in – he raised an eyebrow at this – medical school before war became so widespread that the universities were shut down and she’d gone to work for the Ministry. That she was able to transfer her skills at analysis to such a different environment spoke well not only of her intelligence but of her ability to adapt. Interesting. Very, very interesting.

She loved cats, he discovered as he continued his research into her life, in between his many other duties as leader of a quarter of the world. The quarter that was, naturally, one of the safest places to live at the moment. She loved cats, was socially awkward and not conventionally beautiful with her small breasts and lips, although her complexion was flawless aside from a few (intriguing) freckles on her neck. She dressed in bulky, mis-matched clothing, but he noted its practicality with approval.

In fact, there was very little he found _not_ to approve of about Molly Elizabeth Hooper. So when he approached the leaders of the European nations not under his domination, the ones willing to negotiate a truce – the one thing he absolutely would not bend on was his desire to marry her.

And when he saw her standing at the altar, waiting for him in her flowing white gown, the crown of flowers on her head and matching bouquet clutched in her hands, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d made the right decision. That his interest in her, his desire to know her and to be a part of her life, was possibly the best decision he’d ever made in his life.

Suddenly his future didn’t seem nearly so bleak.

 


	44. A Monster Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For my recent Flash Fic Fest on tumblr, welcometonightcourt requested M-rated Khanolly. Title: A Monster Like Me (inspired by of all things a great Eurovision ballad of same name by Mørland & Debrah Scarlett).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songfic. Lyrics in italics.

_Honey, I’m telling the truth  
I did something terrible in my early youth _

He’d done more than ‘something’ terrible in his youth. He’d virtually enslaved an entire quarter of the world before being overthrown and fleeing Earth with his most loyal followers, And now here he was, three hundred years later, awakened from cryosleep by a woman who deserved to be loved by a knight in shining armor, a prince…by anyone but him.

_I better let you go_  
_To find the prince you thought you found in me_  
 _I better set you free and give you up_  
 _Just wave and say goodbye and let you live_  
 _Without a monster like me_

But the beautiful, terrible truth of the matter was that Molly Hooper refused to go. She refused to allow him to push her away, no matter how towering his rages or how cutting his comments. She saw right through him, saw the fear he kept caged tightly inside - the fear of having lost his soul, of being beyond the redemption of love.

_Honey, what am I to you?  
I have pulled the trigger on this awful truth_

He was with her now, having given her the raw truth of himself, having shed the lie of ‘John Harrison’ and revealed the ragged, ugly truth of Khan Noonien Singh. He was on top of her, inside her, moving desperately, their sweat-slicked bodies a harmony he’d never thought to be blessed to share. Her small, strong hands clutched his shoulders, her thighs wrapped around his waist, and her mouth hungrily, blindly sought his as she gasped her way through her second orgasm.

_Oh, hold me now ’cause I’m burning up  
Sing me something beautiful, just make it stop _

“I don’t want ‘John Harrison’,” she’d said, beautiful in her anger and defiance. “I never wanted him. I knew he wasn’t real, that he was just some false persona you were forced to wear.” She’d reached out, grazing this side of his face with her fingertips. Fingertips that he could oh-so-easily break. Just as he could - and undoubtedly would - break her.

But he didn’t. All he’d done was kiss them, one by one, reverently, wonderingly. Then he’d pulled her close, kissing her breathless, slammed her up against the wall and shredded her hated Starfleet uniform. He’d fucked her hard, brought her to orgasm and spent himself inside her. Afterwards he’d had them beamed from his lab to his private quarters, where they were now. He’d given her one more chance to leave, to save herself, and once again she’d refused. “I choose you, Khan. I always will.”

Simple words, powerful words. Words that could touch the heart of even a broken monster like himself. A selfish bastard who shouldn’t be allowed comfort of any sort, let alone the comfort of being in her arms. Of kissing her, of touching her small, perfect breasts. Of tasting the musky, tantalizing essence of her sex. Of hearing her moan his name and beg him for more.

But he _was_ a selfish bastard, in the end. A monster who’d done terrible things and would continue to do terrible things.

But he would do them knowing that at least one person in this misbegotten future world was capable of loving even a monster like him.

 


End file.
